Welcome to the Dark Carnival, Homie

"Don't thank me," he snapped. "It's part of the goddamn job..." Nonetheless, it did feel good to be thanked.

He laughed.

"No...I'm, uh, a delinquent." He said, as if it were a thing to be proud of. "It's not really your job, I uh don't think."

Jake gritted his teeth.

"You'd be surprised, actually. Law says your still people, like everyone else--my job is protecting people."

He smiled to himself.

"A...you got any food?" He asked, somewhat sheepishly.

"I have some meat sticks in the glove compartment," he replied with a shrug. "There was no time to grab food. When was the last time you ate?"

In seconds, Jess had found an devoured one of the meat sticks. He almost forgot to take off the wrapper, even.

He giggled, however, and started choking for a moment before he managed to swallow.

"...I, uh...nothing." He explained.

Jake gave him a weird stare, almost forgetting to pay attention to the road.

"...You wouldn't happen to be high by any chance, would you?"

"Uh...Actually that wore off hours ago." He confessed. "...it kinda sucks though. I, uh...I can't stop thinking about food now."

Jake gave him a death glare.

"Drugs are illegal, kid--what the fuck's wrong with you? Do you enjoy wasting cops' time and energy? Do you get off on destroying everything this country was founded on? Would you be fucking ecstatic if I handcuffed you to the goddamn car door?!!" He spat as he yelled, sending small flecks of spit flying onto Jess's face.

Jess thought for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what Jake meant.

"I, uh..." He paused, confused. "...are you, uh, hitting on me, Mister Sheriff?"

That had to be it, right? It didn't make any sense any other way he thought about it.

"'cause, I uh, definitely don't, uh, uh..." He was flustered, and it made his partial stutter worse. "...I, uh, don't swing that way."

Actually, Jess did swing that way. In fact, it was the only way he did swing. But that was another one of his big secrets I guess the author just betrayed. Oops teeheeee.

Jake gritted his teeth, letting out a long, low exhale.

"Are you fucking retarded?" he asked, lighting his cigarette and puffing deeply. The small area with its rolled-up windows soon filled with smoke. "I'm married and--" He halted.

That was right. His marriage had ended today--till death do us part had come and gone. They realization sank in his stomach like a stone. He puffed quietly on his cigarette, his face completely miserable.

Jess fiddled with his shirt.

"Oh..." He mumbled. "...I, uh...didn't mean to..."

He frowned deeply.

"...sorry."

He sighed.

"Whatever. I don't swing that way, okay? Just...what the fuck ever."

"Y-yeah..." He mumbled. "...I didn't think so. I-it's uh, not like I do either."

"The fuck are you telling me?" he asked incredulously. "Are you even old enough to be interested in dating? You look plenty young to me, son."

"I, uh...I'm twenty-something." He said. Hadn't he mentioned that before? "I'm plenty old enough to date, and uh, stuff."

"I say you're lying," he replied flatly. "Kids lie about their age all the time--at least, punks like you do. The druggies. The riffraff. Sorry, bud, but you're gonna have to prove yourself if you want my trust." He paused, frowning at the sound of his own words. "...Though mayhap we don't have any choice, seeing as it's just you and me. Just know that I will shoot you if you try to pull anything."

He laughed quietly to himself.

"I, uh...I don't lie." He said. "Well...not a lot. Uh, only when my girlfriend asked if she looked fat in that hoodie...and, uh, stuff where lying is better. But, uh, I think that if I, uh, lied here...It wouldn't be better. So, well, I dunno. I, uh. Didn't."

"Lying is wrong," he replied simply. "Ever read the bible? You're headed to jail and then Hell at this rate, kid--that what you want? Huh?"

"Uhh..." He looked torn between saying something, but in the end he did. "Uhh, but...isn't the jail, uh, full of zombies...? Besides, uh, I've already been locked up a few times."

"What, you've been arrested?!" he exclaimed. The man sitting next to him was a convict. There was a convict in his car.

Naturally, his reaction was to flip his shit.

"What the fuck were you arrested for?! How many times, boy?!!" Only his need to keep his hands on the wheel kept him from strangling Jess.

For once, Jess grew quiet. He really would have rather not said. His few arrests weren't pleasant, and surprisingly, none of them even involved his juggalo friends.

"...can we, uh, talk about this, uh, once we, uh, stop somewhere...?"

"We can talk about it fucking now, since I have a convict in my car!!" he hissed.

"I, uh..." He grew silent again for a few moments. "...please, later...?"

"Do you want me to handcuff you to the door or not, kid?"