<div class="floatleft">(http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3oo3fv7yh1r7wrq1o7_250.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Kinky the Klown<br/><strong>Place within Hierarchy:</strong>Elizabeth's Talent<br/><strong>Role:</strong>Clown<br/><strong>Position:</strong>Doggy Style! Arf!<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Dressing Area/ Big Tent<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Full Makeup and Costume: Purple Sequin Suspenders, lime green "Hammer" pants, purple and green wingtips two sizes too large. No shirt.<br/><strong>Languages and Accent</strong>Jersey Here!<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Lexie, Elizabeth, Lawrence, Open.<br/><br/>There was something so reassuring about the low, hollow pop of a cork squeezing out of the neck of a bottle of good Scotch. Kink wafted the bottle under his nose, breathing in the scent, letting his shoulders relax and his eyes drift closed, just imagining the satisfying numbness that would soon fill him up until the pain drained out. He hated sharing, so it hadn't been too hard to make one bottle of Scotch vanish before the haul was laid out for the masses. He took a long, deep pull, letting the bubbles splash up to the bottom in a way that made him giggle.<br/><br/>Kinky had to cough to keep from spraying the mirror in front of him with a big spit take, when Elizabeth advised Lexie on her wardrobe. It was too funny not to laugh at, but he managed to hold back, choking and coughing instead over the bit of liquor that had splashed down the wrong pipe. For a moment he actually thought that Elizabeth might actually be<em>joking</em>. But when she disappeared into the Big Tent, he realized that she wasn't. Not in the way he meant.<br/><br/>"Perhaps, late at night it might trouble Mistress Elizabeth's sleep, wondering at how we all managed to dress ourselves before we met her." Kink giggled under his breath once he felt like Elizabeth was out of earshot. "Or maybe she's taken all that talk about 'Family' too seriously and believes that she's really our mother."<br/><br/>Kinky laughed at his own joke, not really caring if Lexie or anyone else in the cramped dressing area had heard him. Jokes were measured by pleasure given, not quantity of laughter. No one loved Kinky's sense of humor so well as he did himself. Who could ask for anything more?<br/><br/>It was time at last to kick back and enjoy the meager trappings of the circus life. Kink mused to himself, severing the end of a large cigar, the width of a gorilla's thumb, with one of his throwing knives. He tipped the bottle enough to slowly roll the exposed end in the dark liquid before slipping it lightly between his lips and lighting the end with a match. It took several short, determined puffs before the entire surface of the flat end glowed orange and the thick, grey smoke swallowed his face for a moment.<br/><br/>Shaking out the match, Kink pulled the cigar from his lips and spat faintly, expelling tiny, brown bits of tobacco onto the dirt floor. The next drag came smoother, allowing him to taste the scotch and the burning smoke more clearly. It wasn't a great cigar, a Dominican knock off imitation of a Cuban name brand, but it was good enough to buzz his mind with that reassuring buzz that came with a decent Nicotine high.<br/><br/>Without warning or finesse, Kink hopped to his feet, checking his makeup one last time in the mirror before walking into the Big Tent through a cloud of strong smelling smoke. He was just in time to hear Elizabeth's grand speech. He forced himself not to laugh, despite his strong urge to the contrary. Not everyone could appreciate a good laugh like he could, even when they were supposed to be cutting loose. Instead, Kink just raised his bottle to join the toast and took three loud swallows before chasing the liquor with smoke. If one hadn't known better, it might have seemed that Kink was trying to transform himself into a bomb. In some ways maybe he was, short fuse and all.<br/><br/>When their Ring Matron sat back upon her throne, Kink felt a wild impulse come over him. It might have been ill advised, and even foolish to invite the attention of Elizabeth and Lawrence (who looked none to pleased to be there at all). But Kink's theatrical nature took him over, perhaps it was that Spirit that Boss kept going on about.<br/><br/>"Here, here! Let's also have a toast to our fearless leader, Queen of the Clown Folk, Patron Saint of the Outcast and Holy Matron to the Undying Past! Her Royal Highness, Queen Elizabeth, of Big Top. Without whom, none of this drunken debauchery would be possible!" Kink proclaimed, throwing himself dramatically at the Ring Mistress' feet in exaggerated worship. When he raised his bottle and spoke out again, a dense piece of grey ash tumbled from the end of the cigar between his lips. "Three Cheers! Hip-Hip-! (Pause to let others say 'Hooray') Hip-Hip-! Hip-Hip-!"<br/><br/>At the end, Kink fell into fits of laughter, holding his sides as he backed away from the throne, hoping against hope that she'd meant her toast enough to forgive him meaning his only sarcastically. Once the laughter subsided, Kink drank, flashing eyes at Elizabeth that skirted on rebellious.<br/><br/>Without thinking, or even hesitating for a moment, Kink sat himself heavily across the table from Lawrence. Though Kink paid no mind to the cloud of smoke that followed him to the table, he casually raised the bottle to the sour faced Old Timer across the table.<br/><br/>"Why the long face, Larr-Bear? Didn't you hear Boss Lady's orders? We're to drink until we forget, and make bad decisions." Kink chuckled, reaching over to tip the bottle over Lawrence's glass, almost but not quite pouring more in from the bottle that already was rimmed with paint from the Clown's lips. "Need some freshening up there, Chief?"