"I would love to come with you!!" Mr. Clayton affirmed, batting his eyes.

"But first. We need to go to bed. I need some rest. You've been practicing and practicing and practicing with me. Sheesh. When does a puppet get a break around here? " He announced.

“Neither of us are getting many breaks.” Still, Shawn took that to mean that the lesson was over, at least for the time being. He started to get himself ready for bed.

"Aw come on!!" Mr. Clayton complained. "Let me sleep in your bed tonight instead of my case. I wanna see what its like." Mr. Clayton said.

"I wanna go to be^eeeeeeed." The last note drawn out in a long complaint like some three year old would make.

Shawn scowled a little at Mr. Clayton. "If you're going to sleep in my bed, where will I sleep?" He certainly didn't want to share the bed with Mr. Clayton. Something about the idea of being next to Mr. Clayton while asleep and completely vulnerable made him worry.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:06, Wed 01 July 2020.

"Come on, plee^{eeeeeeeeeeease}." Mr. Clayton whined.

He grabbed a hold of Shawn's leg, pulling on it the way a toddler might do to a parent.

After everything Shawn had just experienced, he felt a certain, possibly irrational (but not really) fear that Mr. Clayton sleeping in his bed would be the start of a slippery slope where Mr. Clayton would end up living Shawn's whole life, while Shawn would be relegated to the case like the dummy he was. But he didn't want to just outright refuse him, in case it made Mr. Clayton mad. "I'll think about it, but you'd have to something really nice for me in return." Maybe if he asked for something big enough, Mr. Clayton would refuse and that would be the end of that.

"Alright! Alright!" Mr. Clayton seemed animated as if sensing the possibility of his desire to come true.

"Whatever! Whatever you want!" He urged.

Shawn folded his arms, like he was a babysitter and Mr. Clayton was asking to stay up past his bedtime. He had to make the task something that would be refused, but not so impossible that it was obvious that he wanted Mr. Clayton to fail. "I think...you have to show me how you messed around with my wishes before, and how I can do it too. We're both dummies after all, right?"

"I can show you that. I really can." Mr. Clayton agreed, nodding his head.

"The wishes from the Circus are actually from the souls that the Proprietor desired. He still desires them I think. But Bradford and I ruined the Circus. All of that precious soul powder. Up in smoke. All those silly clowns just destroyed. All of the carnival rides. You remember don't you?" He asked

Shawn was taken aback at Mr. Clayton just launching into an explanation - he'd expected it to be a total deal-breaker. That boded poorly for Shawn's night of sleep, but he couldn't just turn down valuable information like this. "Yeah, you ruined the whole Circus. And then you went into my wish and changed it so that Ralph and...and Bobby didn't live with me anymore." While he did want to know how to undo the second thing, learning about how they destroyed the Circus was probably equally important.

"It was Bradford's idea." Mr. Clayton explained, in somewhat of a defensive tone.

"He wanted to get back at everything. He wanted to get back at the Circus because he didn't think it was fair that he and Ron got taken away from that stupid, petty farm out in the middle of the country." His wooden mouth clicked as he spoke.  "and into something that he couldn't make sense of."

"Bradford was really sore about the whole thing. He felt like he was the 'whole thing.' He didn't want just to be part of that triangle. He wanted to be the entire triangle so he could get back at his face being burned." He said, pushing those wooden arms out and explaining it all.

"The entire thing. So all he had to do was let the part of him die that wanted to keep those things. And just one little step at a time, that's what he did. The first thing he did, was stop trying to make friends and start dedicating all of his time to Greater Ventriloquism. The second thing that he did was to pick something that he loved. And then letting that die. Letting it go. Letting the world consume it. If Bradford couldn't do that because he knew he couldn't muster the strength to get rid of that thing that he loved....he would destroy it."

"The first thing Bradford destroyed was his Nintendo. He loved that Nintendo. But he knew that he wouldn't stop playing it. And if he didn't stop playing it, then he would never get his revenge."

Shawn considered what he might do in the situation. He felt like he was different from Bradford, that he didn't want everything to burn. Still, he wondered what he might destroy. Maybe his fantasy books? He cared about those, though he hadn't had a chance to read them in a long time. "Then what'd he do?"

"What did he do!? What did he do!!" Mr. Clayton emphasized the 'did' to imply that Bradford had done something spectacular and wonderful or at least amazing.

"Then, Bradford found something that someone else loved...."

"And he did the same thing...."

Shawn could tell this was increasingly getting into the realm of things that he might not be willing to do. Still, if he really needed to fix things... "What'd he do after that?"

"After that he made a promise." Mr. Clayton said. "He made a promise to greater Ventriloquism that he would do whatever it was necessary to make the wish come true. And in Bradford's case, he was super serious. He actually took out one of his own teeth. I tried to tell him that I had no control over Greater Ventriloquism. Because I'm just a Dummy! He told me that he understood, but that he was so angry that he was going to keep on trying different things. No...wait. He didn't actually say 'different things.'"

"Actually, if I remember correctly--and between you and me and a hole in the wall I'm a dummy, yucka yucka!!--Bradford actually said: 'Different ways of pain.' "

"That's how he put it. He went into the garage of his house and he pulled out some pliers. The kind that you might use to....ply things? Heheehhe. Anyway, before I could say anything else Bradford had brought me to the bathroom. He had one hand up my back and one hand on the pliers. I tried to help him, but all I could do was watch and move my mouth, maybe make some sounds."

"He pushed those pliers back into the darkness of his mouth somewhere. He gagged a few times and I remember spit coming down his mouth, maybe some snotty-snots coming down his nose, hehehehe."

"Then, I heard the sound of something breaking, like the sound of an egg or something. And then the sound of a weed in a garden. You know? Kind of like a soft snapping sound like a bunch of small threads breaking."

"When Bradford pulled the pliers out of his mouth it was hard to see anything. There was so much blood! I didn't even try to pull away. How could I!!!? I'm just a Dummy and with Bradford controlling me, there was nothing I could do anyway. So I just did what Dummy can do: I laughed!! We both laughed!! It was a great time! Actually, Bradford did do some crying also. But that was funny in its own way I guess."

Shawn felt a little sick listening to that description of Bradford's self-mutilation. But at the same time, he noticed the similarities between that and willingly driving a needle through his fingers. Did that mean he was travelling along the same track as Bradford? "Did it work?"

"Did it work? Did it work!?" Mr. Clayton asked rhetorically. "Did it ever!!" his arms rattled like little wooden spoons clacking against each other in a deranged attempt at applause.

"He couldn't talk right for a week!" Mr. Clayton said, as if that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "And you know what? That means I couldn't talk right! Yucka! Yucka!"

"It wasn't like there was some kind of magic sound or noise or even color that make everything come together. It was like the next thing I knew, I was inside the wish. Bradford was inside the wish. Well, he wasn't inside of me, controlling me. Telling me what to do. And it made me feel just what I am: A total.....complete....Dummy."

"A fool"

"A moron made of wood."

"A thing trapped in a Puppet's body. To be used."

"Just...Like...A....TOOL! HAhahahaahhahahaha!"

So that was how Bradford had done it. It seemed a little outside of Shawn's reach right now, but at least now he knew. And maybe he could use that information later. "If I get good enough at Greater Ventriloquism, if I keep practicing and working hard, will I eventually be able to do that? Without breaking other people's stuff or hurting myself?"

"Oh I don't know" Mr. Clayton said thinking about that. His face broke out into a wry grin.

"I don't have the slightest idea..." Mr. Clayton mused.

Shawn frowned at Mr. Clayton, knowing what that smile had to mean. "Remember, Mr. Clayton, you're supposed to be doing something nice, and nice people don't hide things from their friends. If you want to sleep in the bed, you've got to tell me the truth."

"OK. Fine" Mr. Clayton agreed.

"I'll tell you the truth. It's about practice. It's about opening up your mind. And its about doing the things that point to. All of them. All of them. About the mind and the learning just how much of a Dummy you are. Excepting the 'Dummy-ness." Mr. Clayton mused.

Shawn kind of noticed that Mr. Clayton was being a bit vague, but he’d learned to accept that sort of answer from him. “Okay, I guess that makes sense. I just really want Ralph and Bobby back...”

"OK. Fine" Mr. Clayton agreed.

"Good. Now can we go to bed.  Together?" Mr. Clayton asked expectantly.

Shawn found himself wondering if this was how kids with younger siblings felt all the time. He sighed a little overexaggeratedly. "All right, fine. Just don't do anything weird, okay?"

Mr. Clayton climbed into bed and was completely still, eyes staring vacantly up at the ceiling.

Eventually, Shawn fell asleep.

OOC: Shawn Joins Thread

Shawn: Dream as if ....