ClownFellas: Tales of the Binzo Family

ClownFellas: Tales of the Binzo Family

by Carlton Mellick III

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780804179355
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Publication date: 07/14/2015
Sold by: Random House
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 402
Sales rank: 547,390
File size: 2 MB

About the Author

Carlton Mellick III is an oafish gentleman with the stylishest of sideburns. He is one of the leading authors in the bizarro fiction genre—a booming underground movement that strives to bring weird, crazy, entertaining literature to the masses. Imagine a mixture of David Lynch, Dr. Seuss, South Park, and Troma movies. He lives in Portland, Oregon.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

“So you the doc?” the clown asked in a deep, raspy voice.

Earl couldn’t even respond to the question. He just stood on the curb, frozen in shock, trembling like a chicken about to get its head bitten off by a sideshow geek. Ever since he was a kid, Earl Berryman had been terrified of clowns. There was something about their googly eyes, inhuman smiles, and skin-curdling giggles that made the poor schmuck cry like a baby. You’d think he would’ve grown out of it, him being an educated man and all, but over the years his phobia only got worse—especially now that there was a whole race of clowns out there, walking around New York in their size 30 shoes.

The clown leaned out of his lipstick-red car. “Hey, foureyes, I’m asking you a question over here.”

Only spittle and gibberish sprayed out when Earl tried to speak. He hadn’t been this close to a clown since his mother hired some junkie to dress up in clown makeup for his sixth birthday party and the freak went into a drug-induced seizure, puking white foam all over his Power Rangers birthday cake. Earl thought he’d be able to handle spending a single day with a group of clowns, but his coulrophobia was getting the better of him. He already regretted taking this job.

“I’m here to pick up a guy named Berryman,” said the clown. Smoke billowed out the car window, but there was no sign of any cigar or cigarette. “If that’s you, get in the freakin’ car. If not, then get lost.”

Sweat pooled inside Earl’s slate-gray suit. Every fiber of his being begged him to turn around and run in the other direction, but he had to be strong. His family was depending on him.

After taking a deep breath, Earl said, “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Then hurry it up already. I’m on a schedule here.”

Earl picked up his case of medical equipment and rushed toward the tiny car. The smell of rotting cotton candy and cheap gin hit him in the face as he squeezed into the passenger seat. The interior was a swirl of pink and blue, with a stick shift that looked like a giant lollipop and purple balloons that hung from the rearview mirror like fuzzy dice. It hardly looked like the vehicle a killer would drive.

“They call me Captain Spotty,” the clown introduced himself, holding out his hand to shake.

When Earl looked at him, his skin crawled. With his wild-eyed stare and permanent crazed smile exposing a row of black rotten teeth, Captain Spotty was the single most terrifying clown Earl had ever seen. His style was that of a hobo, with a patchwork coat made of green-and-orange plaid. A family of cockroaches scurried beneath his shabby clothes, crawling in and out of his collar and up his neck. Earl had to hold his breath to stop himself from screaming.

As Spotty shook his hand, the paper-white clown skin felt cold and rubbery to the touch. Earl knew clowns weren’t human, but he didn’t realize just how inhuman they really were until he felt one in the flesh. He jerked his hand away as a cockroach crawled out the clown’s sleeve and tickled his knuckle.

Captain Spotty wiggled his bright-red nose when he saw the uneasy look on Earl’s face. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re shitting bricks over there.”

“No, I’m just . . .” Earl diverted his eyes.

“You wearing a wire?” Spotty asked.

“No, no way,” Earl said.

The clown pulled a pink knife out of his bow tie. “I’ll slit your throat if you come into my car wearing a wire!”
Earl had no idea where the clown’s outburst had come from. He shrank into the corner of his seat as the knife approached his throat. The blade was carved out of a watermelon Jolly Rancher, the edge sharp enough to cut through flesh.

He cried, “Why would I wear a wire? I’m just a veterinarian.”

“A what?”

“An animal doctor.”

“How do I know you’re not some cop pretending to be an animal doctor?”

Spotty waved the candy blade at the vet, his maniacal grin growing wider on his face. This clown wasn’t just scary. He was also a genuine honest-to-God psychopath.

“Look.” Earl dug his wallet out of his back pocket and held out his employee ID card. “I work at the Bronx Zoo. I have a degree in wildlife medicine. I’m not a cop. I’m just a normal guy.”

The clown peered at the ID with his bright-red eyes.

“Then why are you so nervous?”

“I’m just . . . coulrophobic.”

“You’re what?”

“I’m afraid of clowns.”

The clown looked Earl in the eyes, then back at the ID, then back to Earl’s eyes.

“I’m not wearing a wire, I swear,” Earl said.

Then the clown burst into laughter.

“Of course you’re not wearing a wire,” Spotty said. “Why would you be wearing a wire? You’re just an animal doctor.”

The wallet nearly fell out the window Earl was trembling so hard.

The clown cackled. “Lighten up. I’m just bustin’ yer balls.”

“It was just a joke?”

“I’m a clown.” Spotty put the shift into gear, beeped his high-pitched horn twice, and sped into traffic. “That’s what we do.”

It was quickly turning into the worst day of Earl’s life.

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ClownFellas: Tales of the Binzo Family 4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 3 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I thought this was a unique world, combining clowns with the mob. I would have preferred a brief explanation of the comedy prohibition earlier in the book than the fourth story. Any chance this will become a series ?
Backyard More than 1 year ago
How would you feel if someone pointed a balloon gun at you--scared? Amused? Maybe you'd feel like it is just plain silly and not a real threat at all, since it is just a balloon. You would have to rethink that, once that someone fired the balloon gun at you and you actually got shot in the chest. You would probably be even more surprised if you started to see flowers spouting from your gunshot wounds. Or maybe you would start to believe it is a real problem only after you start to develop a severe depression forced on you from the chemicals laced within the bullet--a depression so strong that you end up killing yourself. ClownFellas is utterly ridiculous in the best way. As my first foray into bizarro fiction, I was pretty blind going into this. I only knew that it was going to be a mafia-like story, but with clowns instead of Italians. It sounded absurd, truly. It definitely matched my expectations in that regard, I just wasn't expecting to get such enjoyment out of it. ClownFellas is several short stories about different members of the Bozo family. It is about their rivalry with the human Carnies and the Le Mystere (French) mime clowns. It is about their run-ins with laughy gas, a toxic drug that turns them into homeless clowns if addicted to it. It tells about romance between clowns, outfits, and the many different weapons available to them. We even get to meet a mysterious clown who has replaced his feet with springs... I laughed uproariously at the fight scene between a couple of Bozos and the Le Mystere guys. Pies have bombs in them that go off and destroy a whole city block. Miming creates invisible barriers that protect against bullets, and then turns around and mimes an invisible machine gun--you can't see the bullets, but you definitely feel the damage! It's just so wacky, I have no other word for this. It was funny, and clever in the ways it brought clown stereotypes into existing bits of mafia culture. I can't help but crack up when there's names like Vinnie Blue Nose Don Bozo, and Laffypants. There is some serious genius work here. It is incredibly crafty, funny, and just totally ridiculous. I love it, it is awesome. Come read something random.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Inventive with the weapons.