The merry-go-round churned at 75 miles per hour, casting the children’s bodies out and along a thousand scattered angles.
“Eeeeeeeeiiiyyaaaahhh!!” the demonic children screeched, sprouting wings midtoss and taking flight into a gloomridden sky. The merry-go-round gnashed its horse teeth, crunching up the gold polish poles like stale crackers. With mechanical slovenliness, a pack of laborers set in motion to its repairs.
“And if you purchase the property today,” Clownmaster Drutherstone gloated, doffing his hat and bringing it to his hollow breast, “I can almost guarantee a 10% return on investment before the end of the summer. Provided it never rains.”
Dr. Lorelei wrinkled his face in careful consideration but also in disapproval as this was the last place he wanted to be, practically on the face of the earth. Though the clutches of his pursuant detractors would still have been worse than this idiotic and buffoonish place.
Wordlessly, he dropped a small bag of jewels into Drutherstone’s outstretched paw. Immediately, the Clownmaster of untold years snuffled inside the bag. “Ah, a down payment?” But Dr. Lorelei was already striding away. Drutherstone sniffed and spat.
“Prepare the Emerald House for the doctor” he wheezed to Ungulen, the groundskeeper.
Ungulen arched an eyebrow. “Marrionetta’s still usin’ it, sir.”
“Blow her out by the horns. We’ve got a paying tenant now.”
Drutherstone continued sniffling and spitting, becoming agitated or allergic. He gargled back a disease and rhapsodized a tremendous splatch out of his throat, just beside Ungulen’s boot. But Ungulen was resolute.
“Fine,” said Drutherstone. “I’ll tell her.”