Clown in Hell

AT RISE: (A receptionist, AZAL, is sitting at a painfully orderly desk, continuously taking and transferring calls on a machine that signals incoming calls with varying maniacal laughs, and typing on a sleek computer. She is dressed extremely neatly in a stylish suit and dark framed glasses, but the professional effect is skewed somewhat by her being a demon. The room is very bland, and monochromatic, with uncomfortable nondescript furniture. Muzak renditions of bad pop music play over unseen speakers. LOBO, a timid looking gentle man in his mid fifties and clad in full clown make up and costume enters hesitantly, clutching a large manila folder in his hands, and stands expectantly in front of Azal's desk. Azal ignores him.)  



AZAL
Hell, front desk. What is your party's extension? Just one moment.  Hell, front desk…no, that would be a question for Baal, I will have you connected in just one moment. (Without looking at Lobo) Is there something you need?

LOBO
Um, I needed to talk to (refers to folder)…Belt…Belt-hazor?

AZAL
(checking a schedule)Belthazor is, I am afraid, off on business topside. How can I handle your business?


LOBO
Oh. It's just…they told me to give him this file and he'd take care of me…I…I'm sorry, I'm new here. I really don't know what I am supposed to do.


AZAL
I suppose I can attend to your situation.  I hadn't received word of a clown coming in. Usually your sort go straight to Pennywise…
(Azel abrubtly takes the file, and gestures for Lobo to pull up one of the chair, stares at the file  puzzled) It says here you were a clown at 'Happy House' for twenty five years. Is this correct?

LOBO
(Nervously)Yes, ma'am.


AZAL
And before that you did children's parties?

LOBO
Yes.


AZAL
(Answering the phone)Hell, front desk. Please hold. (Referring again to the file) Now, you have no recorded cases of instilling the fear of clowns into any children. It also says in this file that you were a devoted husband. Could you tell me why exactly you think you deserve a place here?

LOBO
I was wanting some peace and quiet.


AZAL
In hell?

LOBO
Yes, ma'am.


AZAL
May I ask how you expect to get peace and quiet down here?

LOBO
Well, you aren't supposed to have as many kids running around down here. Twenty five years at Happy House kind of ruined laughing singing children for me.


AZAL
I see.
(A beat as she examines the folder)
This is not normal procedure. Mr, ah, Lobo, could you tell me why you did not report to your department according to procedure?

LOBO
Well, Peter at the other place said that I was supposed to talk to Belthazor. They said he handled transfers.


AZAL
The other place? Peter?! Did they transfer you down here from…Oh my Lord Below…
(She picks up the phone and starts dialing numbers frantically.)

LOBO
(Apologetically) I was just wanting some peace and quiet.


AZAL
Yes, yes. You said that. (on the phone) Hello, sir. This is Low demon Azal. I have a situation here at the front desk. I have a vict—um, client who wants entrance. Yes sir. Apparently their gatekeeper referred him down here. Yes. Yes. No, sir, he was a clown. Yes sir, I was surprised also. What should I do sir? Mhmm…yes…right. Do we have paper work for that? Forms 42 through 111b? Yes sir. Thank you, sir.

LOBO
Well…?


AZAL
Your application for residence in Hell has been accepted.
(Lobo breathes a sigh of relief)
However, because this is a special circumstance, there is a little more paperwork than usual. (Pulls from a drawer a pile of papers easily two feet tall and hands them to a surprised Lobo.) Here are the first few documents. What? Did you think there wouldn't be paperwork in hell?

CURTAIN