Chapter 17: Chasing Zombozo and Conquering Fear
In the dead of night, the Rustbucket blazed a trail down the empty highway.
"We have to find that clown and get those people's happiness back," Grandpa Max said, his voice grim as he kept his eyes fixed on the road.
Although Klein and Ben's "troublemaking" had spared them from Zombozo's life-draining performance, most of the audience hadn't been so lucky. Their joy had been siphoned away, leaving them hollow shells.
Grandpa Max, Ben, and Gwen were all determined to right this wrong. Klein, however, couldn't bring himself to care. Those people were strangers to him, and experience had taught him that sticking his nose into other people's business rarely ended well. His philosophy regarding those he had no connection to was simple: 'Saving them is fine, not saving them is also fine.'
His only real concern was that even his brand of shock therapy hadn't managed to cure Ben of his coulrophobia. He watched his cousin from the corner of his eye, a flicker of disappointment in his gaze that made Ben squirm.
"So, what's actually going on with Ben?" Gwen asked, having noticed his strange behavior back at the circus. Klein's pointed look only amplified her curiosity.
"...Just don't laugh when I tell you!" Pinned by their stares, Ben finally threw in the towel. "I'm... I'm super afraid of clowns!"
"Ohhh, I see!" Gwen's eyes widened in understanding. "So that's why you wouldn't go anywhere near Zombozo on stage!"
"Sorry, Klein," Ben mumbled, unable to meet his cousin's eyes. "I let you down."
"...Forget it. Everyone's afraid of something," Klein said with a shrug, the situation finally clicking into place. He wasn't one to meddle. He'd given it a shot, and it hadn't worked. Time to move on.
"Sorry, Cousin."
Ben's shame only deepened at that. Klein's easy acceptance somehow made him feel even more useless.
Klein just waved a dismissive hand, already lost in thought. Zombozo was a waste of space anyway. Might as well just eliminate him and be done with it.
For once, Gwen held back her usual teasing. Even she could tell this wasn't the right time.
A short while later, they located Zombozo's hideout—a garish, oversized circus tent pitched in a desolate field. Grandpa Max parked the Rustbucket a safe distance away, planning to sneak in and find a way to recover the stolen happiness.
Klein's initial plan had been to simply charge in—they were dealing with a few weaklings, after all. But the idea of a stealth mission had a certain appeal, so he went along with Grandpa Max's suggestion.
Grandpa Max led Ben and Gwen in a cautious crouch toward the massive tent. Klein trailed behind them, his hands in his pockets, walking with the casual air of someone taking a leisurely stroll through a park.
Clang!
Though he'd managed to avoid stepping on any stray branches, Ben's foot connected squarely with a discarded iron pole.
"Whoops... Uh..." Ben shot a panicked, apologetic look at his family before turning to face the two figures emerging from the shadows, drawn by the noise. "H-Have you had dinner? We got lost looking for a restaurant, and this... this doesn't look like a restaurant, so we'll be going now!"
The figures were Thumbskull, a mountain of muscle with a disturbingly small head, and Frightwig, a woman whose long, prehensile hair twitched like snakes.
"Looks like a few little mice have snuck into our tent," Thumbskull growled, cracking his knuckles as he advanced on them.
"Well, well, what have we here?" Frightwig's gaze landed on Klein, her eyes lighting up with a predatory fire. "A little cutie! Don't you worry, sweet thing. Don't be afraid. You just stay right there, and Auntie Frightwig will take very good care of you."
Klein didn't seem surprised. He was all too familiar with that kind of stare, though usually, Gwen was there to run interference.
"See? This is why I said we should've just charged in. It's more interesting," Klein remarked with a faint smile. To an outsider, it might have looked as beautiful as an angel's, but for some reason, it sent a chill down the spines of both Thumbskull and Frightwig.
"In Ben's words," Klein said, slapping the faceplate of his Another Omnitrix, "'It's hero time!'"
A flash of phosphorescent blue light erupted from the watch. In an instant, Klein was gone, replaced by the towering, dinosaur-like form of Humungousaur.
"It's just a little lizard! I'm gonna turn you into jerky!" Thumbskull bellowed, utterly unfazed by the alien that already stood over ten feet tall. He charged forward, fists raised.
"What an interesting little man," Frightwig purred, watching Humungousaur with keen interest. She decided she'd let Thumbskull soften him up, then swoop in to "rescue" the alien and earn his gratitude.
"What was that you were yelling?" Humungousaur's voice was a low rumble as his body began to expand, muscles swelling and bones creaking. He grew larger and larger, stopping only when he loomed over them at a staggering height of sixty feet.
"Uh..." Thumbskull skidded to a halt, staring up at a fist that was now bigger than his entire body. He swallowed hard. "L-Lizard... Dinosaur bro, I was just... I was just offering to trim your nails! They're... they're simply perfect! I don't think you need my help after all, so I'll just be going now!" He turned to flee.
THOOM!
Humungousaur's fist descended like a meteor, driving Thumbskull straight into the ground. All that remained was a man-shaped crater in the hard-packed earth.
The massive alien then turned his reptilian gaze on Frightwig.
"Ah... I'll do it myself!" she squeaked, seeing no hint of mercy in those cold eyes. With the practiced grace of a gymnast, Frightwig performed a series of flips. Her prehensile hair, rather than lashing out, whipped around her own body, binding her tightly from neck to ankle. She landed on the ground with a soft thud, trussed up like a silkworm in its cocoon.
"Right, then. Time to deal with that unfunny clown." Humungousaur lumbered toward the main tent. He didn't particularly care if Zombozo lived or died, but the clown's performance had been dreadfully boring, and now he was being kept from a good night's sleep. Combining old grudges with new, he figured he might as well just crush the nuisance.
He reached out, his colossal hands gripping the sides of the big top. With a tremendous heave, he ripped the entire tent from its moorings, pulling it up into the air. The canvas tore away, revealing Zombozo standing amidst the wreckage of his operation. A massive machine hummed behind him, and dozens of glass panels that had once formed a maze now hung suspended in the air before shattering on the ground.
Zombozo froze, his painted smile wiped clean from his face. The clown couldn't laugh anymore.
"I'm really done for this time!" he wailed, burying his face in his hands. "Is it so much to ask?! Is it easy for me?!" His voice cracked, thick with tears.
The sheer spectacle of Humungousaur's display snapped Ben and the others out of their stupor. It had all happened so fast; Thumbskull and Frightwig were defeated before they could even blink.
As reality set in, Ben looked at the self-pitying Zombozo. A flicker of something new sparked within him. "I... I'm not afraid of you!" he declared, his voice gaining strength. "You're just a clown who got scared witless by my cousin!" He slammed his hand down on the Omnitrix.
A flash of green light. "Diamondhead? Aw, man! I wanted Ghostfreak!" Ben grumbled, having hoped to replicate Klein's intimidating entrance.
"It's you?!" Zombozo recognized the crystal alien. He stopped his blubbering, his eyes darting from Diamondhead to the colossal Humungousaur. A horrifying realization dawned on him as he saw the identical symbols on their chests. "That symbol! I've seen it before! So it was you!" He remembered the fate of his other crony. "How's Acid Breath?"
To be clear, Zombozo wasn't having a change of heart; he was simply trying to gauge his own odds of survival.
"You'll be joining him soon," Humungousaur replied generously.
"You bastard! I, Zombozo, am not to be trifled with!" A thick hose extended from the Psyclown machine, plugging into a port on his back. "Even if I die, I'm taking you with me!"
Fueled by stolen energy, Zombozo lunged—not at the two aliens, but at Grandpa Max and Gwen. If he couldn't beat the freaks, he could at least drag the old man and the little girl down with him.
CRACK!
A crystalline fist intercepted him mid-air, sending him flying. Zombozo landed in a heap, his oversized nose and pasty face caved in.
"I just realized something..." Diamondhead said, slowly advancing on the downed clown. "Compared to clowns... I'm way more afraid of my family getting hurt."
Seeing this, Humungousaur gave a satisfied grunt. He turned and brought his fist down on the Psyclown, shattering the machine into a million pieces. He wasn't interested in watching an unfair fight.
A wave of shimmering energy burst from the wreckage, streaking off into the night sky as the stolen happiness flew back to its rightful owners.
Deprived of his power source, Zombozo was nothing. Diamondhead, no longer shackled by fear, delivered a beatdown so thorough that the clown probably saw his great-grandmother waving at him from the great beyond. (Assuming a freak like him even had a great-grandmother.)
...
The outcome was predictable. Zombozo lost. He and the self-restrained Frightwig were promptly arrested when the police arrived.
As for Thumbskull, after taking a direct hit from a sixty-foot-tall Humungousaur, the paramedics took one look at the crater and didn't bother bringing out the stretcher. They figured if by some miracle he was alive, digging him out piece by piece wasn't worth the effort.
It's worth mentioning that Acid Breath hadn't died—Grandpa Max had been there, after all. But his condition wasn't far from it.
...
The Rustbucket continued its journey down the highway.
"Boo!" Gwen suddenly popped up from beside the passenger seat, wearing a red clown nose and a cheap party-store mask.
Ben, who was sitting right there, just glanced over. "Hehe. You're so funny, Gwen." He wasn't scared in the slightest.
"Aww, Dweeb!" Gwen sighed, pulling off the mask. "It's no fun if you're not scared anymore!"
From his spot on the sofa in the back, Klein took a calm sip of water, watching the scene unfold with a quiet, knowing smile.
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