CLOWN WARFARE PART II

In retrospect, there were better places to try and play this clown for information. But at that moment, I was angry and tired and just didn't give a crap anymore. I sapped him across the face with my sock full of nickels, once, twice, three times. He reeled, twisting away from me in an effort to protect his broken mouth, red with blood and lipstick. "So you gonna spill it, Bobo?" I snarled at his shaking back. "Or do I stop playing nice?" And that's when I realized what this clown was leaning against, and that's when I realized that it wasn't empty. So I did what any sane person would do and turned tail and ran before those doors even opened. I was halfway up the block before they finished pouring out of that tiny little yellow clown car of theirs. I heard the squeaks and honks of a dozen pairs of shoes trailing me all the way to the subway. I was three stops away before it hit me: they'd been waiting for me all along.