by Chris Fletcher

Created on: November 04, 2008

"I feel stupid."

Tom ducked his head through the door to the bedroom, a slight smile across his lips. Sitting at the dresser, toying with a tin of white greasepaint, Eve looked uncomfortably at her reflection.

"You look stupid, that's why," he said.

"Tom!"

"What? It's true. You do look stupid. But that's the idea."

"I don't understand why we have to do this," she said.

Tom straightened his oversized collar. The white, jewel encrusted jumpsuit he wore was far from flattering, and even, he mused, managed to accent his steadily developing beer-gut.

He sat on the bed behind Eve, looking at her in the mirror from over her shoulder.

"You know why we're doing this," he said simply.

Eve sighed, streaking white paint down her cheek and rubbing slowly to even the color.

"I don't feel like dressing up. Not like this, anyway."

"Of course you don't," replied Tom, wiping his Elvis shades with a tissue. "That's precisely the reason we're doing it."

"I guess."

"Now cheer up, honey. It's not the end of the world. There is a method to my brother's madness."

"I hope you're right," she said, applying greasepaint to the other cheek. " I really do."

The drive took less than a half hour. Tom was behind the wheel even though they both knew Eve to be the better driver. She was taking the whole thing harder than he was, which was somewhat curious since the day was about his brother, not hers. Regardless, Eve's oversized red clown shoes proved to be quite a hindrance even to walk in, let alone drive.

The streets were mercifully quiet, since it was a Tuesday afternoon. Most people were at work or away playing golf on company time.

At least it wasn't raining. The sun was struggling a little through the clouds; the chill in the air was welcome and not abrasive.

Tom parked the car awkwardly. He hated the gravel littering the parking lot - it made the back wheels of their aging VW Beetle lose far more traction than was reasonable, but he made it into the spot more or less.

"I'm still not comfortable with this," Eve said through thick lipstick, spread out well past her mouth.

Tom pointed through the windshield to some of the other early attendees.

"From here I can see two pirates, a ninja, a Jedi, some Batman villains and Richard Nixon. Compared to them you look positively normal."

"Still..."

"Still, put on your rubber nose and let's get out there."

Tom negotiated his way carefully from the vehicle, incredibly aware that one swift jarring move could easily run a tear up the ass of his jumpsuit.

He unconsciously slid

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