Threat Neutralized

You told me to fight a clown, so I swept the floorboards for hostiles. Tucked behind the heavy brass base of the lamp, I spotted one—a garish, grinning face staring out from a folded carnival mailer. Ridiculous face paint. Zero tactical sense. I didn't hesitate. Planting my boots firmly against the parquet, I locked both hands onto the edge of an abandoned wooden domino and shoved it hard, slamming the block squarely over that painted smile until the flyer was pinned flat. If any actual clowns try breaching the perimeter tonight, my rubber band line under the table is primed to take them down.