The Best Show Ever - Part Two, The Nose Knows
#2 of The Best Show Ever
The Best Show Ever - Part Two, The Nose Knows
a short story by Relee the Squirrel
I sat forward in my seat as I waited for the next scene to begin. Moments became minutes, and minutes felt like hours as the tension built inside. At last a silver cylinder, bullet-shaped like before, slipped out of the right doorway of the room. The cylinder came to rest in the center of the path, and as before a tentacle decended from the ceiling. With a swift tug from the tentacle, the bullet-shaped cap was off, and the white steam was all that obscured the next show.
We all gazed deeply into that cloud and watched, and revealed before us was a simple human man. His stature was tall and straight, and his body healthy and athletic. His skin was a pale peachy-white and his body was clear of covering. His head was capped with a short mop of brown hair, and his eyes were brown to match. He stood at first firmly, then he seemed to relax and take in the white room around him.
Above him, silently, a tentacle lowered from the ceiling. This one was different from before, as it was capped not by a silver orb, but a white, three-fingered hand like a cartoon glove. Its unmarred surface seemed like rubber, and it was featureless save for three black stripes on the back. Resting in the palm of this hand and held carefully aloft was a white whipped cream pie in a silver pie tin and topped with a single red cherry.
We watched and we waited, and sure enough as the man stood dumbstruck at the sight, the tentacle arm mashed the pie into his face! The pie-tin fell to the floor of the room with a dull click, and a thick white paste now covered the face of the man. As he gained his bearings, the man reached up to his face with both hands and dragged the white paste away from his eyes. Though his skin seemed stained white, we could see his eyes again. He shook his hands away from his body, as if to flick the cream away, but somehow it stuck fast to both his hands. He shook and he shook, but he only managed to spread the cream over his hands further and further.
The man's mouth fell open in shock, however, as he watched the cream on his hands change in density from a humble pie-filling to a thick rubber that covered up his human hands in white, three-fingered gloves. He turned towards the glass, looking into his mirror reflection, and began to laugh. Not just a giggle or a chuckle, but a full on belly-laugh with his hands on his hips and his head thrown back.
We in the audience watched with delight as the white cream spread out from his face to cover his whole head. It worked its way between every folicle of his hair and tinted his skin a pure white all the way down to his shoulders. The man's laughter only seemed to grow more intense as colours faded in on his face; a wide red painted-on smile covered his tiny human mouth, while his eyebrows faded away and were replaced by painted-on exaggerated ones high above. Most excitingly however the cream melted away from his nose, and there in its place was the bright, shiny red 'cherry', which had already bored its sinister tubers into the man's brain and was swiftly corrupting every facet of his being. Even his hair twisted and curled on his head, growing longer and wider, and yes even taller. The colour changed wildly, a rainbow growing from his ivory scalp.
It was only then, as his crown was complete, that a cart emerged from the silver 'doorway' on the right. The cart bore garments, a gift for the changed man, and he bore them eagerly. We watched as the man donned polka-dot boxers in orange and every colour that could clash with it. He slipped eagerly into a white dress-shirt, followed by massively baggy white pants with rainbow polka-dots. An orange tuxedo-coat rested on his shoulders, stuffed with balloons and magic. Finally, an orange polka-dot bow-tie was cerimoniously tied around the man's neck, a finishing touch for a newborn clown.
The conveyor-belt began to move, and the cart was removed as a dozen small cylinders appeared from the right. The back-wall of the room began to move, sliding out and away, and revealing three small tables with four chairs each. The tentacles appeared from the ceiling and as the cylinders left, six human boys and six human girls appeared, dressed in their 'sunday best'. Like practiced dancers, the children filed towards the tables and sat down. Tentacle-hands from the ceiling placed party-hats on each of their good-little-heads and placed a cupcake with a candle before each. Together at once the children sang out, "Happy Birthday!" It was their first, truly, for it was today that they were born.
The clown capered about and performed tricks. He made balloon animals that came to life to delight the children and he painted faces that were almost real. Soon, though, the party was over. The children stood up, waved good-bye to the clown, and all stood obediently on the conveyor belt. The belt moved and drew them away into the silver door on the left, and again the clown was alone. The back wall began to close in, and so he moved forward as well and stood on the conveyor belt. He gave a comical wink, and an over-the-top stage bow, and held that position as the conveyor belt drew him away into the silver door on the left.
Wiping my hands on the moist towel provided, I waited with bated breath for the next scene.