Shawn felt the bite of worm sink deep into his finger. The sensation caused him to jump up, sitting upright in bed. Temporarily in between the waking world and the dream, Shawn heard the pitter-patter of rain on his bedroom window.

There was a jolting sound. It was the sound of thunder followed by a quick flash of lighting that illuminating the night sky, casting light briefly into Shawn's room. By now Shawn was clearly awake and the details of the dream began to become less focused, although Shawn still remembered everything.

Shawn rubbed his finger gingerly, still remembering how it felt even if it was just a dream. As he started to wake up, he looked to his side to check on Mr. Clayton. He was still a little nervous about letting the puppet sleep in his bed. Shawn had made sure to try and sleep on his back, so that Mr. Clayton couldn’t mess with the puppet cavity he knew he had in his back, and he’d listened carefully for any sound of movement in the night. Hopefully it was just a one time thing.

As Shawn rubbed his finger, he felt a slight sting and the wet warmness of blood. A small trickle dripped out of his finger. From the other side of the house, down the hall near Dad's room, Shawn heard a sound. It was a creaking sound.

"..creak..."

"..creak..."

"..creak..."

Shawn almost flinched when he felt his finger, but he tried to remind himself he shouldn't be bleeding. That finger was made of wood, just cunningly disguised as skin that could bleed. He concentrated on that fact for a little bit, but was interrupted by the creaking sound.

He wasn't sure what it was, but he felt like he should investigate. Or at least go to the bathroom and happen to pass near his Dad's room.

As Shawn got up to investigate, any and all pain from his finger faded. It was still there, the stinging, but it was more of a background noise and was no longer driving itself in to the forefront of Shawn's mind as it had when he awoke just moments ago.

Instead, the focus of light at the end of the hallway and the creaking sound that slowly drifted its way down the dark corridor now captured Shawn's waking mind. Gently and rhythmically, the creaking sound continued. There was a beat or a rhythm to the sound. As Shawn made his way down the hallway towards Dad's room, the creaking joined with an interior welling from with in.

Shawn's heartbeat began to pound fast against his chest, coinciding with the creaking noise. Each step increased the pace of his heart and the speed of the creaking noise.

Shawn paused for a moment to try and calm himself down, but his heart continued to pound in time with the noise. He realized the only way he was going to be able to settle himself was if he found out what exactly was going on. He kept moving toward the creaking sound.

Shawn crept down the hallway. The creaking noise continued its low crescendo. Shawn tip-toed past a smiling family portrait that had been hung on the wall quite some time ago. Mom and Dad behind Shawn smiling.

OOC: Shawn Rolls Dexterity + Stealth

OOC: 20:44, Today: Shawn Cramer failed (no successes) using 5d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s.  Dexterity + Stealth.

Shawn's foot touched on the soft carpet and a small, weening sound came up from the floor. It was just a small sound, but with it, the sound of the creaking noise from Dad's room stopped for a second.

Then, as Shawn heard his heart beat and the sound of his own breath in the hallway, the sound slowly came back from Dad's room. A creaking sound. And also, the sound of muffled static.

Shawn held his breath for a moment as the creaking stopped. The silence was somehow even stranger than the noise. But as the creaking started up again, Shawn realized even if he'd been heard, he could stand the suspense no longer. He made his way to his Dad's bedroom door and looked inside.

Dad was sitting in a rocking chair moving back and forth with his eyes closed and his hands folded in his lap. His mouth was open, and he was snoring silently. Even as he slept the chair was somehow gliding back and forth just like it would if an old grandma or elderly person was sipping tea and gently rocking, or the soft rocking that a mother might do to ease an infant child.

Draped across his lap was Mr. Clayton. The Puppet's eyes were closed as if it too were sleeping. The radio was on, and in between the static Shawn could hear the sound of the tapes. The tapes. Bradford's tapes. Tapes instructing a new user how to perform ventriloquism:

"The second part of the alphabet has 7 letters: B, F, M, P, V, W, and Y. If you try to pronounce these letters the same way you did the others, you will find that you have to move your lips. So, for the time being, substitute another sound for these letters. For example, try this sentence: “The bad boy blew up the big jet by using his brain.” Only with your mouth in the position described in STEP 1, say: “The dad doy dlew up the dig jet dy using his drain.” Again, focus strictly on your technique, avoiding any other thoughts or perceptions you may have."

Shawn felt an undirected surge of anger and upset when he saw Mr. Clayton and his father like that, though if he'd been asked why he felt like that, he probably wouldn't have been able to answer. He knew he'd made noise on his way over, so he found himself wondering if Mr. Clayton was in fact just pretending to sleep, as absurd as that sounded.

Regardless, he wasn't going to leave the dummy in here doing who know's what. He crept into the room to pick up Mr. Clayton to carry him back to his room. He was going to have a long talk with him.

When Shawn took Mr. Clayton off of Dad's lap, his father didn't awake. He just kept rocking there, snoring. The radio fuzzed into a static like taking Mr. Clayton away had ruptured the connection.

As Shawn carried Mr. Clayton back towards his room, the Puppet's eyes opened and blinked, adjusting to the waking world.



"Incredible thoughts....from an incredible mind.....how did his brain conceive them?" Mr. Clayton said, clearly referring to being in the rocking chair with Shawn's Dad.

Shawn kept silent as he returned to his room, not wanting to wake his Dad, but also stewing on what he'd seen. It wasn't until he'd returned, closed the door, and then sat himself down on the stool in front of the mirror that he spoke. "What were you doing in there again?" His voice was low, but a little accusatory.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:52, Tue 22 Sept 2020.

"Nothings...I mean...nothing." Mr. Clayton replied in a coy voice which, under the strange circumstances came out like 'more than what I'm admitting to you right now'
This message was last edited by the player at 12:53, Thu 24 Sept 2020.

Shawn again felt an undirected surge of anger, though he was slowly managing to unpack his feelings about it. Perhaps part of the anger was about his Dad, the way he hated all the artistic stuff Shawn did, but apparently had no problems playing with Mr. Clayton personally. He wanted to get to the bottom of it, but he knew he couldn’t just ask Mr. Clayton. So he decided to try another tack. “It’s okay, I know that whatever you’re doing with my Dad must be important. Can I help with it too? Dummy to dummy, and all?” He tried to sound reasonable as he said it.

"Ahhhhh......I don't know." Mr. Clayton answered unsure. "I can't make him tell you it's OK. He's...."the man of the house", as they say! Yucka Yucka!" Mr. Clayton, pulled one finger at his imaginary collar, trying to get some additional air in those wooden lungs of his.

"It's his fault. I was just sleeping and then, next thing you know I'm in his chair. What's a Dummy to do?"

"Besides, I'm not supposed to talk about this with you..."

Shawn kept pushing, trying to stay nice and understanding-sounding, but not letting Mr. Clayton off the hook. "Come on, what's the harm in telling me? We're in this together, plus you know I'm so empty-headed I'll probably forget anyway."

"Your Dad's a fag." Mr. Clayton barked out. Then he waggled his puppet eyebrows in a mock gesture of an old-time silver screen actor.

OOC: Shawn rolls Intelligence + Expression + Study with the following results

0 Successes: Shawn doesn't understand what Mr. Clayton means, but knows its an insult to his Dad

1-2 Successes: Shawn knows that 'fag' is a bad word and Mr. Clayton shouldn't be using it

3+ Successes: Shawn knows the meaning of the word 'fag' in this context and understand what Mr. Clayton meant by it

Shawn didn't know what the word meant, but he vaguely understood it was a bad thing. Still, he didn't want to admit his ignorance, so he kept going. "So what? That's got nothing to do with you teaching him ventriloquism. C'mon, tell me what really going on."

OOC: 07:51, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 1 success using 5d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 4,3,4,8,4.  Intelligence + Expression + Study.

"Fine." Mr. Clayton agreed. "You're Dad keeps taking me out of bed. And out of your room. It's not my fault that he's interested in learning the secrets of Ventriloquism." Mr. Clayton said, hands out and extended, wooden palms up in surrender like there was nothing that could be done about it.

"I tried to tell him that I was your Dummy. But he's soooooooo interested. He's been practicing how to say the letters while he sleeps. It might be a sleep walking thing. Like he doesn't know he's doing it!!! Yucka Yucka! I wouldn't ask him about it. You know you're not supposed to wake up a sleeping, sleepy, sleep-walker? That's what they say."

Shawn had heard of sleep-walking, but sleep-learning-about-ventriloquism seemed like something that was maybe a little suspicious. But he couldn't get openly upset or openly accuse Mr. Clayton of anything, because that wouldn't help things at all. He just had to pretend to roll with it.

"In that case, why don't we trade jobs for tonight? You can get some rest, and I can teach him about Ventriloquism. We just need to drop my people disguise for a little bit and put you under the covers, and he'd never be able to tell the difference, right? Since he's asleep and all." His request sounded absurd, but he delivered it like it was the most normal thing in the world and Mr. Clayton would be crazy not to accept it.

"No." Mr. Clayton disagreed. "That's not what Papa wants." Mr. Clayton said, presumably saying that Shawn's Dad wouldn't agree to that and using the affectionate term 'Papa' to refer to Shawn's Dad. Shawn had never heard his own Dad called 'Papa' before.

“You said he’s sleepwalking, though. So how could he tell the difference?” Shawn tried to sound curious, like he was just asking innocent questions, rather than trying to press Mr. Clayton for information in the hopes he’d let slip his ultimate plans with his Dad.

"No. Not your Dad" Mr. Clayton corrected. "Papa." Mr. Clayton said.

"When your Dad falls asleep. Then Papa comes and gets me. Its the way its been for some time now." Then as if this was all a surprise to him, Mr. Clayton asked Shawn.

"What? You don't' know the difference between Papa and your Dad?"

Shawn was confused, and he allowed a little bit of it to show, though he didn't allow it to break his mostly genial tone. "Of course not; you've never told me, silly!" He sounded a little befuddled, but not outright frustrated - it was like Mr. Clayton had forgotten to mention he should add 'eggs' to the grocery list.

"I didn't?" Mr. Clayton asked Shawn in what sounded like genuine surprise, adding to the confusion with a confusing question of his own. His blank puppet-face stared up at Shawn with those dark eyes, the motion of the wooden face stoic and silent, waiting for Shawn to respond.

“Well, no. I think I’d remember if you did.” Shawn kept his tone light, though he was upset that Mr. Clayton was hiding yet more things from him. “Are you going to introduce us? If Papa is living in the house, we should get to know each other, right?”

Mr. Clayton shook his head. "I don't know if I can introduce you! Yucka Yucka! " Mr. Clayton waved those loose arms around in a pantomime of an excited child.

"Papa only comes out when you're asleep." Mr. Clayton explained. "When you're asleep and when your Dad is asleep. That's why I said your Dad's a fag. Because your Dad is Papa when your Dad is asleep. Actually, come to think of it, you we're right, You're Dad isn't a fag, Papa is!"

"Aww, but I want to meet him! Isn't there any way to make him come out when I'm awake?" Shawn was becoming increasingly confused about what exactly was happening to his father, but he kept pushing his cheerful questioning in the hopes that something understandable would pop loose. "And why is Papa a f-...um, a 'you know what'? What is that, anyway?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:45, Sat 10 Oct 2020.

Mr. Clayton shook his head again, this time indicating frustration. "It's not like that at all. They're both the same person. Your Dad. And Papa." Mr. Clayton sighed.

"Papa only comes out when you're asleep." Mr. Clayton repeated. "And your Dad is named Robert Cramer." Mr. Clayton said the second sentence slowly so that Shawn could understand.

"It all started the first time your Dad took me out of your bed. We went back into his room. He was all interested in hiding me in your closet. He was saying the most awful things about you. Tsk..Tsk..."

Before Shawn could process that last part, Mr. Clayton broke into a diatribe his eyelids flickering up and down like slatted windows as he blinked. "He said that your were a sissy and that no son of his was going to be playing with dolls. He dragged me down the hallway and tried to stuff me in his closet where you couldn't find me. But there wasn't any room in there. So he went to the end table of his bed and pulled out that bottle he has. He started to drink from it. Then he sat in that rocking chair of his. And I guess he kind of forgot that I was on his lap. Anyway, after a few hours of drinking, he started to look at me."

"He started looking at me with a funny look. Then, after a while, his eyes rolled back into his head. And he was sleeping."

"And that's when Papa came out." Mr. Clayton told Shawn like he was telling a secret that shouldn't be revealed.

"That was the first time I even knew Papa existed. He put his hand into me. And he started practicing. And boy did we practice. Soon we started listening to the radio. Bradford's old tapes. It turns out Papa is quite the ventriloquist. He made me promise I would never tell your Dad." Mr. Clayton told Shawn in almost a whisper. "He said he didn't want your Dad to know that he was a fag. That's why I said that your Dad was fag. Because Papa is a fag. I know because he told me. He told me that your Dad would be really angry about." Mr. Clayton explained.

"Because your Dad said that only fags play with dolls." Mr. Clayton told Shawn with a knowing voice.

"I think your Dad thinks that you're a fag too." He finished.

"I don't play with dolls! Ventriloquism is different!" Shawn felt genuinely shocked and hurt that his father thought so poorly of him. He knew what a sissy was, and he couldn't help but think the...other word...was related to that.

He felt a genuine frustrated fury build up in him. He'd done so much to try and keep his dad happy, so much to make him proud. But none of it had worked! Dad had called him names and tried to steal Mr. Clayton and who knew what else! It made him want to scream! But he'd been pushing his anger down for so long he barely knew how to express it anymore.

He took several deep breaths, but the anger didn't go away. "Why do you get to hang out with the one who likes the stuff I do while I don't? I think I'd rather have Papa than Dad. " His frustration made him sound whinier than he'd intended, which just made him more frustrated.

Mr. Clayton flinched at Shawn's anger, closing his eyes. Then he slowly opened them again.

"Papa tells me things about your Dad." Mr. Clayton repeated. "Don't shoot the messenger! Yucka! Yucka!!" Mr. Clayton joked, though the joke was hardly appropriate.

"Your Dad loves you." Mr. Clayton said, though by the way he said it, it sounded like Mr. Clayton himself wasn't convinced of it.

"Besides, you'll never get to meet Papa. He only comes out to play with me. Only when you and your Dad are asleep. Sometimes I don't like it though. The way he plays with me. He plays really rough. You ever have that experience? A kid that plays really rough with you on the play ground?"

"Papa is the worst when it comes to that. Sure, he tells me about your Mom and your Dad and why it didn't go so well. But then he throws me around when he has his hand up me. He makes me do these really, rough, quick movements. It hurts the wooden parts of by body. It's like going on one of those wooden roller coasters!"

Shawn still felt upset and frustrated and angry, but he tried to push those feeling aside. It didn't work, but he felt like it did. He didn't know if he could believe Mr. Clayton, but he wanted to know what 'Papa' told Mr. Clayton. But he didn't think he could trust Mr. Clayton's answer if he just asked.

"I told you want to meet Papa." He controlled his anger much better this time, though he was clearly still upset. "Let's switch places. Not like I said before, the way we did it in the show with Junior. We'll switch bodies. I want to talk to Papa."

Mr. Clayton opened his eyes wide.


"Are you sure." Mr. Clayton asked in a high, winy voice. "What if it's dangerous. What if we don't know how Papa would react?" Mr. Clayton's voice reached epic heights of squeaking, like his uncertainty made it the first time Shawn had seen the Puppet genuinely nervous.

"I mean, you know him better than me. And if you'd introduced us before now, we wouldn't be in this mess, would we? So how do you think he'd react?" Shawn didn't know if this was dangerous or not, but despite getting better at not showing it, he was still feeling angry and stubborn; Mr. Clayton not wanting to do it was a point for the plan, not against it.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:50, Fri 16 Oct 2020.

Mr. Clayton opened his eyes wide.


"Papa hates your Dad. He wants to be awake all of the time. I think he wants to get rid of your Dad." Mr. Clayton said. No threat to it. Said it just like he was talking about what Shawn might have for dinner. "Papa blames your Dad and you for making Mom go away." Mr. Clayton said.

"Why does he blame me!?" Shawn had thought 'Papa' sounded more understanding than his Dad did, if he was into ventriloquism and performing stuff. So why would he blame Shawn for Mom going away?

Mr. Clayton opened his eyes wide.


"I don't know." Mr. Clayton said, now taking on the role of some captured mobster in a noir flick whom the police were interrogating. "Maybe he thinks you're a fag." Mr. Clayton offered, hands close to his chest and palms out, all innocence. "It could be that Papa is mad and just wants you to go away because he wants me all to his lonesome." Mr. Clayton suggested. "Could be that you're in the way 'bub. Yucka! Yucka!!"

"Do you think there's any way we can make peace?" Shawn didn't like the sound of a second version of his father who was trying to steal Mr. Clayton from him - it was almost  as bad as the one who wanted to just take him away. "I'm a way better ventriloquist than him. If there's a pyramid, I'm closer to the top than he is, right? He's gotta know that!"

Mr. Clayton opened his eyes wide.


"It's true." Mr. Clayton agreed with Shawn. "Also, you're a bit gentler with your hands. And I like the way you move my arms more than the herky-jerky way that Papa does it." Mr. Clayton confided.

"Maybe if you could find a way from stopping Papa from coming out, he would some how go away." Mr. Clayton pondered.

Shawn felt a little glow from Mr. Clayton's praise of his technique, though he still felt a little upset by everything else he'd learned. "Even if we could, wouldn't that just take us back to the old problem? Dad wants to throw you away."

Mr. Clayton shook his head yes. It was problem. And the silence that settled in between Shawn and Mr. Clayton confirmed the predicament. Papa was going to keep stealing Mr. Clayton from Shawn and taking the Puppet to learn its secrets. Dad on the other hand was going to try to throw Mr. Clayton out.

"Yucka! Yucka!" Mr. Clayton announced suddenly. "None of this matters!" Mr. Clayton rejoiced. "Soon you'll be leaving the neighborhood."

Then the Puppet's face went dour with worry. "But what about stopping 'You Know Who.' You said you wanted to get Ralph back. If you abandon the kids in this neighborhood now, you know what will happen to them." Mr. Clayton informed Shawn.

"It was like the time I killed Tiffany. Or the time Mr. Cherrywinks killed Ron. Or......Bradford." Mr. Clayton omitted the last part about who killed Bradford.

"I'm not gonna abandon the neighborhood." Shawn noticed the omission in Mr. Clayton's list of dead, but he didn't acknowledge it at all, aside from stuffing another ball of anger deep down into himself. "And that means we've gotta fix Dad somehow."

He spent a few moments in silence trying to figure out some sort of solution. "Both Dad and Papa live in the same body, right? Is there a way to, I dunno, squish them together into one person? Maybe one that doesn't mind ventriloquism but doesn't want to learn it either?"

Mr. Clayton shook his head no, as if that couldn't be done.

"They're both in the same body already!" Mr. Clayton confirmed, though the statement, the way he said it was obvious, even if he used his high-pitch puppet voice. "Fine" Mr. Clayton resigned.

"We'll do it the way you said." The Puppet nodded, indicating that he would, indeed acquiesce to switching bodies with Shawn once again.

"But if we do that, don't tell Papa that you and I did it. Or we're going to both get in trouble."

Shawn didn't really understand the limitations of Mr. Clayton, though it seemed he'd finally given ground on something. "I won't tell him you and I switched. But are you gonna tell me how to turn on the tapes and all that other stuff you do? Do you appear in Papa's dreams like you do in mine sometimes?"

Mr. Clayton nodded his head, wide eyes looking odd as the head lolled to one side.

"OK, I'm sorry I didn't tell you before." Mr. Clayton said, not sounding sorry at all. "It's just that you weren't really ready. " Mr. Clayton said.

"I didn't want to upset you."

"I'm not upset." Shawn was lying, but no more so than Mr. Clayton clearly was. "So how do we do this, if I wanna convince Papa to leave us be?"

Mr. Clayton responded with his high-pitched twang that was off-putting to anyone that might have heard it. However, the door was closed and Shawn and Mr. Clayton were in the room alone, so no one heard it. And of course, Shawn himself had made the sound, hadn't he? Hadn't Shawn practiced in front of the mirror so many times before perfecting that voice that Mr. Clayton was using just now?

"It's be a Switch-A-Roo!" Mr. Clayton explained.

"With Greater Ventriloquism.  When you see Papa, you'll know what to do. You'll know whether the time is right or whether or not we need to do several Switch-A-Roos!."

Mr. Clayton flopped his arms about in a pantomime of excitement.

"We either need to get rid of Papa or get rid of your Dad getting me. One or the other. Yucka! Yucka!!!"

Shawn nodded seriously. Mr. Clayton's vagueness aside, he couldn't let the situation with his Dad keep going. One way or another, he had to fix it. "All right, I'm ready."

Mr. Clayton shook his wooden arms out like he was a great showman about to begin the first act of a new play. He waggled those fixed eyebrows in a way Shawn had seen once in a silver-screen Groucho Marx film that Dad watched on the couch.

"You know what you have to say!" Mr. Clayton announced with great flair. Then he paused.

"You do know what you need to say, right?"

Shawn did know what he needed to do, but he still needed a moment or two to psyche himself up to do it. This was important, this had to be done, and maybe this would let him convince his Dad he wasn't a bad son. He took a deep breath and braced himself. "I give myself to Greater Ventriloquism."

"Alright fine." Mr. Clayton said, the voice of child who had has his fun annoying Shawn and was now growing bored of it. He had run his little circles around Shawn with indirect answers and jokes and now it seemed that he was done.

"I'll do it, I'll do it." Mr. Clayton said in an exasperated tone, as if drawing this out had all be Shawn's idea and what a bad idea it was. "But you have to go to sleep first and then you have to say 'I give myself to Greater Ventriloquism.' "

"All right. Good. I'm gonna go do that." Not long ago, Shawn might have asked how he was supposed to say stuff if he was asleep, but he'd had enough bizarre dreams after meeting Mr. Clayton that he knew it was definitely something he could manage. He got up from the stool and headed back to bed. He'd have to calm down a bit to sleep, but unfortunately trying to get to sleep immediately after feeling upset or sad was something he'd become used to.

"You've got to snuggle with me." Mr. Clayton said, as if reminding Shawn about a task that Shawn had forgotten about.

"Papa likes it when it he takes me away from you. So if you're snuggling with me in bed, he'll be sure to come out." Mr. Clayton ventured.

Shawn sighed. "You just want to be cuddled, don't you?" Still, he didn't have the time or energy to argue more, so as he crawled into bed, he made sure Mr. Clayton was close and under his arm.

"This is what it's about." Mr. Clayton said, pushing his wooden frame against Shawn's body.

"I love you." The Puppet said. "How could I be without you?" He asked. "I know Bradford made me hurt Tiffany and made me kill you....well, the other you..." He let his voice trailed off.

"But I love you. I really do."

Shawn made himself not back away from Mr. Clayton, even though that was his instinct. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to do those bad things.” He told himself he was just trying to make Mr. Clayton happy, but even deeper down, he didn’t want to admit that hearing that from the dummy genuinely did make him feel better.

"If I ever did anything to hurt you, I'm sorry." Mr. Clayton said, snuggling his warm body up against Shawn.

"What do you think about what Leonard said? About Ralph's Mom? When we go to sleep tonight and Papa comes, what are you going to ask him?" Mr. Clayton asked. If Shawn had done that, had asked three questions in a row Shawn's Dad would have disdainfully asked 'What is this? Twenty questions?'

Shawn briefly wondered why Mr. Clayton felt warm, but was a little worried that the answer might scare him. Instead, he focused on the more answerable questions. "I don't know about Ralph's Mom - you're the one who put him there, you should know something about her, right And when I see Papa, I'm gonna try and ask him why he doesn't like me."

Mr. Clayton started at that comment, his head jerking up from the pillow like a squirrel or racoon that had been caught rummaging through the garbage.

"I didn't put Ralph's Mom there. That wasn't me. In, fact, I think we should kill Ralph's Mom!! Yucka! Yucka!"

Shawn was a little surprised at Mr. Clayton's surprised reaction. "What do you mean, you don't know? I was there when things changed - it was definitely you who made Ralph and...and Bobby remember they lived at her house."

Mr. Clayton shook his head.

"Nope. I just spun the wheel. I opened the gates. I changed the course. I didn't decide where the river took us or what number the wheel landed on. I didn't put Ralph's Mom there. That wasn't me. I just changed it so that whatever other possibility could happen, happened."

"It's not my fault that Ralph's evil-Mom decided to take that moment to move it."

"And about Ralph's evil Mom....." Mr. Clayton said in a coy voice. "Let's come out and say it." Mr. Clayton intoned. "Come on. Say who it is. You know who it is and I know who it is."

"So just say it. Who or What is Ralph's Mom."

Shawn was quiet for a long time. But he knew the answer Mr. Clayton was expecting, and he knew it was probably the correct one too. "I think Ralph's Mom might be Cherrywinks. Or at least works for him."

Mr. Clayton now nodded his head enthusiastically in agreement. Or at least that's what Shawn was making him do.

"Bingo!  BANGO!!!!  BONGO!!!." Mr. Clayton rejoiced in total agreement.

"That's what I was thinking. And you know what? I also think that Ralph's Mom is taking kids. Because Ralph's Mom is Cherrywinks!"

Shawn nodded along, thinking on what that meant. "He's different now, though. He wasn't hypnotizing people before, right? And the Circus was destroyed. So what does he want now?"

Mr. Clayton nearly whispered the next thing he said to Shawn

"He wants the same thing as always. He wants to feed someone souls. And who is he trying to feed? " Mr. Clayton asked Shawn, his voice trailing off in near silence.

"Is it for him? Or...you know...the Proprietor?" Shawn still had nightmares about that well, and what it had done to Bradford. "Can Greater Ventriloquism stop him? Either of them?"

Mr. Clayton nearly whispered the next thing he said to Shawn

"That's right." Mr. Clayton intoned. "The Proprietor." Mr. Clayton hushed the words as if just saying them too loud might bring on some kind of unwanted attention from some unknown force.

Then he suddenly broke out into an unexpected, joyful, raucous laugh "Yucka! Yucka!"

"You figured it out. You put all the pieces together. And just in time for you to move out of the neighborhood. Such a shame. With you gone, that means everyone will be taken." Mr. Clayton said in a sad tone, a kid realizing that all his favorite toys would be discarded.

Mr. Clayton sighed. "Well, you better speak to Papa soon. It might be the last night either of us see him for a while."

Shawn had thought along similar lines, but it was still scary to see Mr. Clayton spell it all out like that. Still, he knew he couldn't just leave. "We can't move out of the neighborhood if that's what's happening. If Cherrywinks steals all those souls, he'll be more powerful - and he hates us. He'll chase us down and kill us both. We have to stop him from taking people somehow."

"Yucka! Yucka!" Mr. Clayton chuckled an inappropriate laugh, given the circumstances. "We've got to do something. That means we also need to stick together. That means you can't just throw me away now that your moving. And if you move, you'll need to come back somehow. Are you planning just to abandon your Mom when she comes to pick you up?" Mr. Clayton's words came out like racing thoughts, with no respect for the sequence of reality nor the sequence of events. Just pure rumination of events and feelings and possibilities.

Shawn felt like he'd been moving from crisis to crisis lately, and hadn't really had a chance to figure out his own future. "I might be able to convince Mom that you're part of an acting exercise I'm supposed to do. But we can't leave here until Mr. Cherrywinks is gone..."

Mr. Clayton raised one paint-shipped brow"Good luck with that. I'd bet that your Mom has her own plans for you. Also, your Mom's a jerk. That's something we're both aware of. Have you ever noticed that she never really cares about anything that you want. If I was a betting Puppet, I'd bet on your Mom's plans more than yours. Just promise me you'll keep us together. Don't abandon me in this neighborhood alone!"

Shawn wanted to make the argument in defense of his Mom, but when it was just him and Mr. Clayton, it sounded really hollow. "Mom's a jerk...but Dad's kind of a jerk too. I miss when they kept each other busy."

Mr. Clayton suddenly and without warning was annoyed. "You're being a fag. We both know it. You're stalling because you don't really want to do the 'switch.' The words came out harsh and biting, even though just moments earlier Mr. Clayton had told Shawn that it was dangerous and asked Shawn if he had really wanted to 'do it.'

"Could it be that you really don't have as much trust in Great Ventriloquism? Or is it that you really are afraid to meet Papa and would rather see your Dad." Mr. Clayton mocked, his carefree 'Yucka Yucka' attitude now giving way to bitterness.

"That's it isn't it? You're afraid. I knew it!"

Shawn gave Mr. Clayton a scowl, like he was being bothered by a younger brother. "I was ready to do it before you started talking about Leonard and stuff. You're the one who was stalling." Besides, Mr. Clayton said he had to sleep first, and he could hardly sleep while arguing. He rolled over a little to end the conversational distraction and do the 'switch'.

And with that Mr. Clayton's mood suddenly changed, all snuggly and warm. "OK,  you know the magic words. He said, nuzzling up to Shawn and expecting Shawn to say what was necessary for the them to make 'the switch.'

Shawn nodded sleepily, a little uncomfortable with how close Mr. Clayton was, but too tired and too polite to push him away. "I give myself to Greater Ventriloquism."

Shawn's Puppet - Mr. Clayton Joins thread:

OOC: Shawn's Puppet - Mr. Clayton: Changing Bodies