Bonzy fired the revolver he was hiding under his coat, spreading the librarians brains over the bookshelves directly behind him. This of course alerted the cultists to the sad clown below, and the one behind the building decided to investigate, leaving the tied up player beaten, but alive.
The cultist rounds the corner, pulling out his gun and trying to spot something in the library. He never saw Bonzy behind him with the law book.
Ten hits over the head later, Bonzy wipes the blood off his face and examines his work. “Guess I threw the book at you.” HONK
The other three cultists on the room, send two of their own to investigate, which were promptly disposed of by the sad clown lurking in the shadows with the gun and a collected works of Shakesphere. “Not to be, I guess.” HONK
After freeing his allies and finding a map of the area, Bonzy turned to his group, and stated flatly “I’ll be in the car. Reading in the dark is bad for your eyes.” HONK
The campaign continued without much happening for awhile, losing only one member in the span of a month of game time, which we thought spoke highly of our redeemed status, but I wouldn’t stop yet. I wanted to ensure our GM wasn’t going to kill us in the middle of the night. Bonzy remained just as sad, and it served him well when they met the second group of cultists.
The location was an abandoned funeral home. Apparently, the cult was of an eldritch god who was most powerful with the dead. No big surprise, seeing as everyone up to this point had connections with some dead family member from years ago. We pull the car around the back, two sneak in the vent, and two (Bonzy) sneak in the back door. We knock out two guards and tie them up with a stretchy rubber chicken, then make our way deeper into the building. First room we find with a cult? The morgue.
The cultist tosses a knife, landing in Bonzy’s ally shoulder. Bonzy pulls out a gun and fires off two into the cultists chest, killing him and blowing their cover. Bonzy wastes no times in preparing his next plan. He pulls out the knife and stifles the wound (Having been a performer, he had dealt with knife wounds before), and told him to wait by the door with a gun while Bonzy waddled into the shadows to meet up with the rest of the group. He spotted a cultist in the hall, but managed to hide long enough to sneak behind him as the cultist passed.
Bonzy raised the knife to his throat, and quietly slit it before he could alert the others.
“Guess that was a close shave.” HONK
The other upstairs cleared the rest out, and helped Bonzy lug the wounded character back to the car, but not before they saw another group of cultists preparing for something nasty in the wings of the funeral home, so Bonzy opts to investigate, with a friend of course. Bonzy was sad, not stupid.
Investigating paid off, and Bonzy and the friend uncover the cultists attempting a ritual to summon their dead god. The character says with a few minutes, he can put a bomb together, but it looks like it’ll take more time. So, Bonzy volunteers.
Imagine the cultists surprise when this rather depressed looking clown waddles out from the shadows, holding a little flower and a deck of cards. It was time for the routine.
“What did the dead god say to the humorless cultists?”
“…”
“Is it dead in here or what?” HONK
“Who are you, clown?”
“Please, call me Bonzy. Clown was my father.” HONK
The cultists mutter a hushed debate about how to kill Bonzy, who was taking this time to turn the flower into a napkin, and then pulling it out of his sleeve. One cultist got closer, and Bonzy offered him a hand of cards.
“Pick a card, any card.”
The cultist reached for a card-
“Not that one.”
The cultist stopped, and reached for another-
“Not that one either!”
Finally, the cultist grabs his card, studies it, and offers it to Bonzy.
“Why are you giving it back?”
“Because you’re going to make it disappear.”
“And waste a perfectly good playing card?” HONK
The cultists finally run out of humor and pull out knives to sacrifice the sad clown before them to their dead god. Lucky Bonzy, the friend finishes the bomb just in time, which he tosses to Bonzy. The clown lifts it up as the timer counts down. The cultists back up, waiting for a pun from the strange clown.
“No clever words this time?”
“… Not really.”
“Are you out of jokes?”
“No, I just want to go out with a bang.” HONK
After we high tailed it out of there, the group managed to save the player with the knife wound, and Bonzy survived with only minor injuries and a scar on his upper arm from a brazing bullet. Dozens of puns, sad clown routines, and close shaves later, we decoded the last clue from the books, and we had it. The final showdown spot where everything must come to an end. And I think somewhere, we all knew Bonzy was tired of being sad all the time.
Bonzy was going to finally have his peace.
A graveyard, hundreds of years old, and plenty creepy, was full of cultists that seemed armed to the teeth with daggers and strange magic. We had found a way to hoard the weapons from the police station, and entered the fray like a 4 man army right out of the pulp fiction books. We left nothing in our wake, and cleverly averted disaster after disaster. Bonzy took a couple of hits, but he was already sad, so it wasn’t like anyone noticed. When we reached the last, inner circle of the cult, we took a small vote about who would take point, and the most dangerous position, on our last mission. Bonzy doesn’t even finish listening, instead waddling out onto the dark grass and honking his nose with the deepest frown on his face.
The cultists debate killing me, but the leader lets Bonzy draw closer. I think it was out of curiosity rather than an ingenious plan, but whatever drove him allowed Bonzy to draw within punching distance.