Author: Aidan Badinger

And for the moment I was there, carving out a little place in heaven for the one they call Christy Mathewson. No, not the pitcher, like you’d ever heard of the man. I mean the exact doppelganger who never picked up a baseball in his life. Nope, not once, if you can even believe it. What kind of red-blooded American man never indulges in his nation’s favorite pastime? This particular specimen was more intelligent than average, so his disinclination to engage in sport isn’t chalked up to a lack of wits and determination. No, this man had a keen eye for balance and a genuine panache for the written word.

Dipsy was your run of the mill birthday party clown. He had all the usual apparel–big red nose, rainbow pants, huge shoes, the whole bit. Well, almost all of it. It was on this particular Tuesday that Dipsy would grow to wish that he could afford an automobile. It would only have had to fit him and a couple of his clown buddies (but who was he kidding, he had no friends). He didn’t understand how much he needed to shield himself from the cruel reality of no-good street thugs who could spot an easy target from a mile away. Before Dipsy even knew what had happened, his inflatable wallet and waterproof watch were gone and down the street. Dipsy was by no means a vindictive man, and assumed that these unfortunate souls needed the cash more than he did. He did acknowledge how poor he was, but he at least had a gig to make it to in… shit, he had no idea if he was on time, since they’d made off with his watch too. That made Dipsy slightly miffed, but he still didn’t press charges.