“HEY! Stop right there!" 

The command ripped across the street loudly enough to stop Hazelnut in his tracks. He was halfway to the sidewalk, standing right on top of the median without a moving car in sight. He'd started walking after making doubly sure that no car was coming. It was a slow Sunday at the shopping district. Not many people were out spending money, so when Hazelnut started waltzing his way to the other side, he didn't think it would arouse any controversy. Now here he stood frozen, heart in ice, darting his head around to see who had yelled at him.

“Over here, doofus!" yelled the woman's voice again. He turned towards it, pivoting on his sandals quickly enough that his golden dog tail whooshed through the air behind him. There on the sidewalk where he'd come from stood a mouse in full clown regalia. Spring green overalls shone in the sunlight with a satin sheen around her cartoonishly wide hips and bottom. With it was a bright red shirt that swelled over a huge bosom ready to make the straps of her overalls fly off her shoulders. A face twisted with scorn was painted with red and blue triangles above and below the eyes. At the end of her button snout was a fat red nose and wanton buck teeth. Massive like everything else, she had ears on her head big enough to send her flying if she flapped them hard enough. She waved him over with a paw covered by a puffy, white glove. “Get over here!"

Other people on the sidewalk were watching the commotion. For a moment he just stood there, unsure what to do until he realized he was still in the middle of the street. He could've run the other way and left that crazy mouse in the dust. Instead, he ran towards her like a dummy, too afraid of what might happen if he didn't. Hazelnut came hustling over, sandals clopping on the asphalt while his neatly combed brown hair went all haywire with his speed. He felt out of place in front of her with just his T-shirt and khaki shorts, and she was the one dressed like a clown. It took him a second to catch his breath before he addressed the accuser. “Yeah? What's wrong?"

“What's wrong?" she demanded. “You went and walked in the middle of the street! That's jaywalking! You know the crosswalks exist for a reason, right pal?" 

Hazelnut looked around the sidewalk and saw people watching. A few of them had their phones out, recording the encounter. It made for a weird scene, that was for sure. “Yeah, I'm sorry. The block ends way down there and the store I was going to is right there."

“Oh, so what? Ya can't walk a few extra feet and walk the proper way you're supposed to? C'mon, buddy. I know people are lazy these days, but this is ridiculous."

“Lazy" cut him deeply. He bowed his head. “I'm sorry, ma'am."

She shook her paw at him. “Hey, buddy. None of that 'ma'am stuff, alright? Just a clown tryna keep these streets safe, ya hear? What's your name, anyway?"

Common sense would've said not to tell her, and the idiot went and did it anyway. “Hazelnut," he said meekly. 

“Hazelnut, eh? You can call me Thiccums." She held her gloved paw out at him. “Nice to meet ya."

Hazelnut felt the tensions ease with her introduction. Thiccums. Yeah, that's a fitting name. A little smile came across his face as he reached for her paw. “Nice to mee-“

Brr-ZAP!

A flash of yellow and black through Hazelnut's body, zipping up his arm and lighting up his skeleton like a Christmas tree. Thiccums let go of him, leaving the hair on his head to poof out into and afro, the very top of it sizzling in a fire. His eyes were bugged out of their sockets in the middle of a face tinged with soot. The smell of bacon sizzled in his nostrils. Laughter across the sidewalk from all the witnesses. Thiccums waved proudly, the metal zapper strapped to her palm visible for all to see. 

“Thanks, folks. Thank you, thank you," she said with a bow. “Everyone follow me and see what happens to fellows who don't take safety seriously." She peeled the zapper off her glove and grabbed Hazelnut's paw which was still outstretched where he'd left it. “Come on, bucko. You and I are gonna have some fun."

He blinked when he felt himself being pulled down the sidewalk. His muscles still rang from being zapped. It felt like he was floating on air while his legs pumped away beneath him. In front of him was Thiccums, her name looking the most appropriate from behind with that huge dump truck grinding behind a canvas of green satin the size of a flatscreen TV. Her wormy mouse tail swayed behind her, the segments painted in rainbow colors from the root to the tip. Behind him Hazelnut heard the crowd following the two, excited murmurs and giggly comments being made. Hazelnut stayed quiet, still unsure whether it was a good idea to resist this crazy lady or not. Distracting him from a conclusion was her almighty butt, something too amazing to abandon no matter the danger the woman who owned it was putting him in.

They came to the city fairgrounds. The carnival was in town, and the place was flooded with merry seekers and merry makers ready to have a grand ol' time. There was a Ferris wheel,  roller coasters, and a smorgasbord of other rides for people to ride until they got sick. Through alleys of dirt and debris was the smell of cotton candy, funnel cakes, barbeque, and farm animals amidst the din of laughs and screams from those who waltzed among the vendors whose wares and games were open for those with the money.

All that noise and Thiccums grabbed everyone's attention. More people saw him being dragged by the proud looking mouse clown. They asked and others answered. The clown was going to make an example out of the poor guy for jaywalking. No hooliganism around these parts. No sir. A derelict dog like Hazelnut had to be punished in a way he and no one else would soon forget. Might as well watch, decided more and more folk as they converged with the crowd and marched with them to the circus tent. It was at the very center of the fairgrounds, its purple and magenta stripes looking radiant in the summer sun while the pendants whipped in the wind at its pinnacle. The curtains were open for Thiccums, Hazelnut, and the coming crowd who began filling the seats. The show was about to start. Better not miss it.

Hazelnut felt small as he walked across the dirt floor in front of the eyes of hundreds. At the rim of the tent were bleachers and bleachers of folk watching him, digging into their bags of popcorn and cracking open their peanuts. The earthy smell of their discarded shells hung in the air as heavily as the dirt itself. The chatter buzzed about him like the constant hum of a highway. At the center of the tent floor Thiccums came to a stop and raised her arm above her head. The crowd started to cheer, hoots, hollers, and whistles all around Hazelnut. They stopped when she lowered her arm and a microphone descended from the ceiling on a thick wire. She grabbed it and spoke loudly into the receiver.

“Ladies and gentlemen! How are we today?" Loud cheers from everyone. “Good. We've got a good show for you today, a little spontaneous action to spice up your day here at the fair." She looked at the dog next to her, standing there with that dumb look on his face like he still didn't know what was going on. “This is my friend, Hazelnut. Hazelnut thinks it's fun to walk across the street all willy-nilly for fun. This guy's a jaywalker! What do you think about that?" The crowd booed him. “Yeah, I thought so too. Well, don't worry folks. We got just the right thing for Hazelnut here, stuff that'll teach him the right lesson not to act dumb around the streets."

She yanked on his arm and swung him around until he was facing the right direction where two clowns were wheeling a platform onto the center of the floor. It was draped in a massive white sheet, covering something rectangular that Hazelnut couldn't identify. Joining the platform were dozens of tables also covered in sheets. They were wheeled out and then put in a straight line parallel from the larger platform. Thiccums drew him over to the larger platform where the two clowns who'd brought it out grabbed the sheets on opposite ends of each other.

“You see, Hazelnut," Thiccums went on. “We got a way of teaching people how important it is to be safe around these parts, and it involves the whole community." She nodded at her cohorts, and the sheet was pulled off with a flamboyant whoosh! There, standing on the platform in all its medieval glory, was a pillory. Three holes, for the head and both arms, each with Hazelnut's name on it. The man felt his stomach twist with dread as he was dragged towards it, the two clowns ready in case her tried to resist. He hardly had the strength to stand up on the platform when he got there. Thiccums urged him with a tug on his arm. “Come on, buddy. Ain't gonna make things easier if you wait."

With wobbly legs Hazelnut climbed up. One clown swung the pillory open on its hinge like a clapboard. To Hazelnut it looked like the jaws of a hungry gator, those three bottom half-holes ready to chomp him to pieces. Thiccums came to a stop and pulled him around her towards her two assistants. She let go and he came floating towards them, quiet and with wide, pleading eyes. The two gruff men grabbed him, bent him over onto the pillory, and after making sure his wrists and neck were properly placed, closed it on him.

CLACK!

The slap of wood on wood was deafening right next to Hazelnut's ears. Just as loud was the heavy ker-clunk of the cast iron lock coming closed. There was poor ol' Hazelnut, just a head and two paws sticking out of a wooden block, his tail sagging between his legs. Thiccums came into view on his right, the cheekiest little smile on her face. “Get comfortable," she said. “'Cause you're gonna be there for a while." She went towards the line of tables and grabbed the sheet of the one in the middle. When she turned her head back towards him, he saw that her cheeky smile had blossomed into the most dastardly buck-toothed grin. “Hope you're hungry, boy. Do we got we got a meal for you?" She pulled the sheet and sent it fluttering to the dirt, revealing the treasure that had been stacked beneath.

Pies. Lots and lots of pies, freshly baked with the finest ingredients, stacked and lined up by the dozens. The other clowns pulled all the other sheets to reveal more of the same thing, all of different flavors and styles. Banana cream, apple, blueberry, chocolate, pumpkin, and every other classic flavor was there to serve as ammunition. What should've been a supremely appetizing display of food sent cold shivers running through Hazelnut's feet.

Thiccums picked up one pie by its saucer and dipped her thumb into the thick cumulus of whipped cream that topped it. It came out covered in chocolate which she stuck in her mouth and suckled clean. She hummed contently before pulling her thumb out with a thhp! “Mmmm… What a coincidence. Hazelnut flavor." She aimed that sinister grin at him and hoisted the pie up next to her head. “Want a taste?" 

Within the confines of the pillory Hazelnut was unable to shake his head. “No…"

“Heh, well that's just too bad for you, buddy." Then she reeled the pie back over her head and chucked it straight at his face. Direct hit.

SPLAT!!!

Fluffy cream and liquid chocolate blew across Hazelnut's face, painting the pillory and the dirt below. The pan stayed glued to his face for a moment before it slid down and hit the floor with a loud rattle. There was Hazelnut's scrunched up visage coated in a thick mix of cream and chocolate, fragments of which oozed down the pillory and his features. His two eyes blinked open. He opened his mouth and tasted the bits of chocolate that were plastered to his lip and fell into his bottom jaw. Thiccums wasn't lying. It was Hazelnut.

His tormentor was facing the crowd now, one arm high above her head with the other holding the microphone. “Who wants a shot at him?" she roared. The audience roared back at her, and at once they all came charging down the bleachers towards the tables. Hazelnut felt the world rumble around him as a thousand feet trampled and hustled for the pies. Those who got there first came sprinting towards the platform, pie at the ready.

“Wait…" he pleaded. “Don't-“

SPLAT!!!

Another pie to the face, blueberry this time. The gooey fruit matter smashed against the side of his snout, adding to the tasty mess that had creamed his face. The platter slid down into the mess below. Hazelnut hadn't a chance to open his eyes again before he got a faceful of cherry and crust.

SPLAT!!!

Thus commenced the onslaught, a barrage of plies flying at his vulnerable face one after the other, their crisp bodies hissing through the air and then striking with enough force to send foodstuffs up his nose. Giddy laughter rang around him.

SPLAT!!!

“Got him!"

SPLAT!!!

“Ooh! Nice shot!"

SPLAT!!!

“Yeah!"

SPLAT!!!

“Hahahahahaha!"

There was never a chance to even open his eyes, they came so thick and heavy. Beyond the people's laughter and the ringing in his ears he could hear Thiccum's voice on the speaker. “That's right, folks! Get him good! There's enough for everybody! Wanna give him more? Come and buy a rotten tomato! Just one dollar!" Just a moment later and the sweet flavors that crashed into him were spoiled by the even ruder splats of gushy, soft tomatoes.

Hazelnut's entire head was lathered in goop. Among fragments of crust and fruit were clots of cream. The sleek brown hair he liked to take so much care of was slumped down his scalp, heavy with filth. Hovering like fog was the stench of tomato juice. That entire side of the pillory had been layered with it. A great tin wall of pie platters was piled on the ground in front of it, each one representing a single person who had taken part in his humiliation. A few brave folk took selfies with him once the source of pies and tomatoes went dry, the latter having sold out rather quickly.

The tables were empty, and the people went back to their bleachers, all of them laughing and joking. They sat down with smiles on their faces, very few having missed out on the satisfaction of delivering justice upon the silly dog. Hazelnut stayed slumped in his wooden prison, unable to open his mouth without suffering the taste of defeat. With a streak of cream stuck to his visor, he couldn't hope to open his eyes. He was spared the sight of their merriment, but not the sound.

“Did you guys enjoy that?" boomed Thiccums into the mic. She got an affirmative roar. “Awesome. If any of you didn't get a chance to chuck a pie at Hazelnut here, don't worry. There's another opportunity to give him what he deserves coming right up." 

Ker-clunk! That was the sound of the pillory being unlocked. The jaws were lifted, and Hazelnut felt the air of freedom chill his wrists and neck. He couldn't see it, but just his head, paws, and shoes were covered in muck. The rest of him remained comparatively clean. That was not to last. At the same time he tried standing up he felt his arms being restrained by two men. He was hoisted in the air and carried like the prisoner he was towards some unseen fate.

“Next up, we got a fan favorite we like to use on people like Hazelnut," announced Thiccums. Hazelnut heard the squeak of wheels as something else was wheeled onto the floor. There was the whoosh of a sheet being removed, followed by a high-pitched shriek of delight from the audience. “That's right, folks. Just five dollars and you can get three shots. If you didn't get a shot with the pies, here's your chance to redeem yourself. Line up while we get our boy ready."

Hazelnut felt himself being jerked higher into the air before slowly being lowered. He heard laughter as his feet slipped into something like pant legs. They were pulled all the way up before his arms were shoved into the sleeves of whatever outfit he was being forced into. Smelly, scratchy fabric encased him all around. A zipper was pulled up his back. Zzzzzzzzzzzt!  Two gruff hands wiped most of the stuff that was on his face, permitting him to open his eyes finally. He didn't even get to focus on anything properly before something came down on his head, swallowing it like the rest of the suit.

Thiccums announced the arrival of their new guest. “Everybody! Give a round of applause for Stinky, the hobo skunk!" Laughs and applause all around. The suit they'd forced Hazelnut in was that of a gruff looking skunk in a pair of worn, bleached overalls. The head piece depicted a sleazy-eyed polecat with his tongue poking out the side of his mouth. A scraggly skunk tail was cocked high up behind him, the tip cresting a whole foot above his balding pate. 

Hazelnut could barely see out of the damn thing. The eyes were just fuzzy mesh, blurring everything that was in front of him. It didn't help that all the smells that had been glued to his face were now locked inside the suit's head, forcing him to breath it all in directly. Suddenly he was being lifted into the air again and carried to his next punishment. It was a tall booth of some kind, that he could at least make out through the foggy eye holes. He was carried up a short ladder where a door was opened and he was heaved inside. He landed on his butt atop some stool. There he heard the gentle slosh of water, and it finally dawned on him. Wait… This is…

“Five dollars!" yelled Thiccums into the mic. “Five dollars for three balls! Hit the target and watch Stinky go splashing into the slime!"

Slime!?

Thiccums' voice again. “Here you go, little guy! Give that ball a toss as hard as you can!" A second later he heard the hiss of a baseball flying through the air punctuated by the thud of a near miss. “Aww, that's alright. Come on. Two more tries." Another toss, another miss. “Oooooh, so close! Come on, just one more! You can do it." The crowd went silent. Hazelnut could see the faint image of the young lad taking a deep breath. He cocked his fist back and let fly.

DING!

The platform gave way beneath him, and down Hazelnut went.

SPLORSH! 

The world went muffled and dark. Thick, green slime absorbed everything he saw and felt, weighing on him like a million pounds. He thought he'd be stuck there, that he'd drown in the dunk tank, that this was the lesson people would learn about jaywalking: Don't do it, or we'll kill you with slime. But a dead man learns no lesson, and he was heaved out of the emerald goop by his armpits. Coming back above the surface he heard the cheers of the crowd. Curtains of slop oozed off his mascot suit while Thiccums congratulated the young man who had dunked him.

“Alright! Now who's next? I see we gotta long line ahead of us! Five dollars, folks! Five dollars for three tries. Five dollars, three tries."

And so it went. Every person willing to cough up the dough got three shots at the target. Some missed, others didn't. Hazelnut sat on the platform, blind behind a sheet of green ichor that hung from the faux fur of his head piece. He would flinch with every hiss of a shot. Most of the time he would hear a thud when the ball hit the backboards. Other times…

DING! SPLORSH!

Down into the goo he'd go, left to soak there for a second before the two clowns would hoist him up and plop him back down. This went on and on. What portion of such a huge audience were in line, he did not know, but it felt like the entirety. Thiccums would commentate and provide encouragement, happy to extort the audience for their cash. In exchange they got a chance to further his humiliation, something that weighed on him more and more severely with each plunge into the tank.

DING! SPLORSH!

DING! SPLORSH!

DING! SPLORSH!

DING! SPLORSH!

DING! SPLORSH!

Up and down. Up and down. Up and down. They went through the whole line. If you missed all three shots, you got to pay another five bucks to go again. A few folk took up the offer. Some even paid another five to have a third chance. Thiccums was happy to provide. The line dissipated, and Stinky the hobo skunk was more slime than man. The fur had been stuck flat to the suit, ruining the features of what had been a lovable tramp-turned lazy slimeball. Hazelnut was yanked out of the dunk tank, nothing but a wet noodle unable to even move his arms under the weight of the gunk that clung to him.

Thiccums went back to the microphone. “Now! I'm sure you all had fun, but it's time for the grand finale." The headpiece was pulled off Hazelnut so that he could see the last method of his punishment being pushed into the tent. It was not on a platform like the pillory had been, but it was draped in a big white sheet. It rode on two spoked wheels with a long hitch tail coming from the back of it. What part of it the sheet laid on was long and cylindrical, giving Hazelnut an idea as to what it was. Thiccums walked up to the strange device. “Here we go, folks. The part you've all been waiting for!" She grabbed the sheet and yanked it away, revealing a massive, circus-colored cannon.

Cheers from the audience. Dread within Hazelnut. They unzipped him from the skunk suit and pulled him towards the funny looking weapon, its massive muzzle yawning at him like yet another maw to devour him. He could offer no resistance as the clowns grabbed him by the ankles, aimed his feet down the barrel and then slid him inside that way. His arms scraped against the iron walls, stopping him by the shoulders and leaving his messy head hanging out. Luckily, Thiccums had just the solution. In her gloved paws was a comically enormous ramrod. She held it over her head and bopped Hazelnut in the face with it, cramming the poor dog all the way down to where a charge of black powder had already been packed. There he sat scrunched up in a ball within the cannon's breech, looking up at the light that peered into the bore like the end of a tunnel. It was swung around on its wheels and then aimed up at a higher angle so that he saw the tent's striped ceiling. The view was eclipsed by Thiccums' smiling, painted face.

“Hey there," she said, echoing her voice into the bore. “You look comfy. Ready to take a trip?"

Hazelnut's tears left streaks of clean down his cheeks, through the aftermath of the community's retribution. “Please, don't…"

An evil cackle. “Well, you shoulda thoughta that before you jaywalked on my street, bub." She shot him a wink. “See ya round, Hazelnut." Thiccums pulled a matchbook from her bosom, took one out, and struck it on the cannon's iron barrel. She waltzed up to the fuse that poked from the priming vent all frayed and twisted. She grabbed the mic one last time and asked the crowd. “Are you readyyyyy?"

“YEAH!" roared the crowd.

“Alright! You might wanna cover your ears for this one! On the count of three! One! Two! Three!" She put the match to the fuse, and it began to sizzle. Thiccums ran as fast as she could, jiggling her massive tuchus before she skidded to a stop on her clown shoes and poked her fingers into her ears. The crowd watched as the fuse grew shorter, and shorter, and shorter, until it disappeared into the vent and then-

BOOM!!!!!!

Hazelnut rocketed from the cannon as straight as a ruler, all the filth blown off his skin by the smokey blast that sent him flying. Black smoke belched from the muzzle and trailed off his blown-out sneakers in a long comet tail that followed him to the ceiling which he blew right through, leaving a massive hole that created a golden beam of sunlight. The cannon flew backwards on its wheels from the recoil. Thiccums was there to stop it with her foot. Once the echo of the cannonblast had faded, she took a heroic bow, and the crowd went wild, happy that their jaywalker was up in the clouds, racing for the stars.

Hazelnut whistled through the sky, that stream of black smoke billowing behind him, the wind whipping in his ears. People on the streets stopped, looked up, and pointed at the living missile which arced like a rainbow. At the apogee things grew quiet and he was able to creak his eyes open to witness the city below him, an immersive mosaic of square neighborhoods and tall buildings gently panning away beneath him. Whatever appreciation he felt died when the world went weightless, and his plummet to the Earth began. Limbs starting to flail, he watched as the urban sprawl melted into forest which rapidly grew bigger and bigger. He lost the grace of his trajectory and went into free fall, tumbling ass over teakettle like he'd been dropped out a window. The trees below grew bigger, and bigger, and bigger, until…

Poomf!

A pyramid of pillows waited for him on the ground. He crashed right on the summit, blowing out an eruption of snowy duck feathers and sinking all the way to the base just a few feet above the ground. His body was sore from his punishment back at the tent, but he'd been spared grievous injury by an impact with the ground. Buried under a mountain of softness, he stayed there lying on his back, refusing to go anywhere until somebody made him.

Some time later he heard a familiar voice call his name. “Hazelnut?" There was the shift and shuffle of someone pulling the pillows away, digging for him. The weight of them grew lighter and lighter until the one on his face flew off, flashing him with the sun and making him squint. “There you are! Gave me a fright," chirped his savior. His eyes adjusted and then recognized the silhouette standing above him. With a pillow in her paw, still in her clown outfit but wearing her glasses, was Farrah. “You alright?"

Hazelnut blinked a few times before sitting up with a groan. “Yeah, I'm doing great, thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck before smiling up at her. “That was awesome."

“I'm glad you liked it." She held her paw out and pulled him to his feet. “Not a lot of guys let me use my clown persona. I always have fun."

Hazelnut stretched his back. “And I'm glad I found someone like you who's willing to do it. You know how to put on the makeup and everything. 'Thiccums' is a really good clown name for you too."

“Oh yeah?" She turned to the side, showing off the massive profile of her ass. “What makes you say that?" That got a laugh out of him. “But you're really OK? I thought I might've packed too much charge into the cannon. I'm glad I got the trajectory right. It's a lot like rocket science, shooting cannons."

“Yeah, I'm fine. I had a ton of fun. You did a good job."

“Aww, thanks, sweety." She came forward and gave him a big hug, flattening her boobs on his chest. He hugged her back. “Plus, I made a really big profit too. I might turn into a professional clown as a side gig."

“Aren't you a teacher? How many jobs are you gonna take?"

“Oh, because God forbid a woman has a hobby." She winked at him. “See you around, pie face."

He winked back. “Right back at you, Thiccums."