THE LAST LAUGH, by Lori Roberts HerbstWhen we found Spanky curled in a fetal position in the back seat of his yellow clown car, Paloma and I assumed he was sleeping off another bender. Wouldn’t have been the first time. There was a reason Spanky didn’t need to wear a plastic red nose like the rest of the clowns.
I tugged at the end of my lime-green tie and took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar odor of elephant dung. I opened the car door, stuck my foot inside, and prodded Spanky with my floppy blue shoe. Not a whimper or a moan. I squeezed through the door and shook Spanky’s shoulder.
“Up and at ’em, pal. Gotta get ready for tonight’s show.”
No response. A purple hue radiated beneath his white makeup. His thick tongue protruded through painted lips. I slid my finger under his nose.
