The children shrilled with laughter as Mr. George’s belch shook the stage. The stench of rotten fruit lingered, evidence of the 265 candy apples he had just consumed. He rubbed his gelatinous belly, his snout curling into a smile.
“Oh ho ho!” he squeaked, his cherubic pitch betraying his eight-foot frame. “Your Valentine’s gifts were so scrumptious today! Thank you, everyone!”
“You’re welcome, Mr. George!” the audience roared.
Mr. Friendship winced from stage left, the noise having interrupted him from reviewing his routine. He glanced at the two people before him and the two behind. Three new faces, four frowns. He maintained his smile and returned to rehearsing his words.
“We’ve had such fun today, everyone!” Mr. George continued, slapping his hands together. “Our show’s almost over, which means…”
“Mr. George’s Fun Friend Time!”
The showman chuckled, his jawbreaker eyes rolling in their sockets. “That’s right, and for today’s special, I’ve asked all my friends to share why Valentine’s Day is so super-duper great!”
As he swung one arm to the adults, Smarties, Skittles, and M&M’s skittered across the stage from his candy-scaled skin. A spotlight veered to the first act, an unkempt man who cowered in the light. A cloaked stagehand pushed him forward, the light following.
“Say hello to my new friend, Mr. Stuart!” The children cheered, their spittle spraying the edge of the stage. The man flinched.
Mr. George squelched two steps toward the man, leaving pudding footprints behind. “Mr. Stuart,” he squealed, “What do you—-“
“What the hell’s going on?” the man cried. He looked at his fellow guests. “Is this a joke? What the fuck is this!” He searched for cameramen, producers, someone who could be running the show. “I’m done! I’m done! Let me leave!”
The children were quiet, their silhouettes motionless. Mr. Friendship steeled his smile. The man took a step back.
A stage hand tackled the man from behind, propelling him into Mr. George’s outstretched arms. The showman clamped his hands on each side of the man, his hands spanning from shoulder to elbow.
“Aww…” Mr. George trilled, “It seems like Mr. Stuart needs…”
“Love!”
“That’s right! Get ready, Mr. Stuart!”
Mr. George creaked and snapped as his snout opened, revealing hundreds of candy corn teeth. The beast leaned forward—holding the man’s face inches from his maw—and vomited. Red candy coating engulfed the man as he shrieked and struggled. The sour odor of burnt flesh, sulfur, and cinnamon comingled with the sound of children’s laughter.
When Mr. George let go, Mr. Stuart’s candied body collapsed against the concrete flooring. His corpse would harden from the coating before it would from rigor mortis.
“Oh, that Mr. Stuart was such a party pooper! Let’s hope our next friend is more playful!” Mr. George danced on-stage, gesturing toward the next act. “You may remember her from our last show. It’s Ms. Sandy!” He performed a stomping tap dance before turning to her. “Ms. Sandy, why is Valentine’s Day special for you?”
The spotlight blanched the woman’s face. She clutched at her cue card. Mr. Friendship was with her in the last show, and her response had saved him from performing. He had appreciated that. However, he knew from her look it wouldn’t happen again. Her look was the look of someone whose plan had fallen through. He had seen it many times before.
She tiptoed forward, her voice shaky as she spoke, “Valentine’s Day is special to me because it is the day you show us your—“
Her breath hitched. “—mercy—”
She choked again. “—and love…”
Mr. George’s smile widened, splitting at the edge of his lips. “You need love, too, Ms. Sandy?”
“No,” she shouted, shaking her head, “no, no, that’s okay! I don’t need any, Mr. George.” She stumbled backwards. She hesitated before turning to run.
A licorice tongue cracked against the woman’s back before wrapping around her. She screamed for help as she was whipped back toward Mr. George. She collided with his body, sinking into his stomach and chest. She struggled to break free.
Mr. George’s tongue swiped across her face as it retracted, covering her mouth with a jelly film to stop her cries. The children jumped in their seats and clapped.
The showman twirled and bowed. “You did need love, Ms. Sandy! It feels so, so good to have you with me! And you’re right; I do love to show my love on Valentine’s Day!”
Mr. Friendship stifled a grimace as the woman looked pleadingly toward him. He could not think of her now, especially with the spotlight on him. He beamed toward the audience.
“That’s two friends now! Three to go!” Mr. George crowed, lumbering back into a dance. “I’m so happy to welcome Mr. Phil Friendship for his fifth show!”
It was time. Mr. Friendship jigged forward, clapping his hands while guffawing. “As you can see, Mr. George,” he called while cartwheeling, “I’m so happy, happy, happy to be here today!” He somersaulted onto his feet and began mimicking Mr. George’s dancing. The children bellowed from their seats, their smiles frothing.
The room quieted quickly once Mr. George spoke, “Oh ho ho, you’re so silly, Mr. Friendship! But what, I wonder, is your answer today?”
Mr. Friendship froze in place with his mouth agape, feigning surprise. “Oh?” He jumped into an upright posture. “Oh! My answer! Well, I love all of the love on Valentine’s Day, just like you! It makes me and you all warm and fuzzy. Isn’t that right, Mr. George?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. It was too dangerous. “But you know, Mr. George, why do we get all the love today? You’ve been loving on us this entire show. Now it’s our turn to love on you! Isn’t that right, kids?” He reached to the audience.
“Yes!” they erupted in unison, convulsing in their seats.
But they didn’t move further. Despite how they writhed, they waited for Mr. George. Mr. Friendship felt the sweat trickle down his back and from his armpits. He kept his arms before him and clenched his smile tighter. The monster stood still, his eyes twirling.
“Hmm…” the showman hummed, his voice deep and rumbling. It reverberated throughout the stage, making the other two acts yelp. Mr. Friendship blinked the water away from his eyes. Minutes seemed to pass.
“Aww shucks!” Mr. George hooted, the high pitch returning. “You’re right, Mr. Friendship. Come on, kids! Show me how much you love me!”
Mr. Friendship scurred offstage as the children stampeded onstage. He hurtled himself in a steel cage in the wing, locking the door behind him. He sobbed as he watched from the narrow grille.
The children had swarmed Mr. George, who giggled unceasingly. They tore chunks off of his body and bit into his flesh. They ripped apart Ms. Sandy and opened the showman’s stomach. They tugged at taffy intestines and rock candy ribs. Candy bile coated and dissolved their hands which, in turn, were eaten by themselves or other children.
Some kids feasted on Mr. Stuart. Two scratched at each other’s faces as they fought over an arm. One child gnawed on another’s leg, seemingly unphased by the lack of sugar. Other children had pursued the two other side acts into the auditorium, stifling their screams in hungry mouths. Mr. Friendship had assured himself there had been no time to tell them this would happen. Even the stagehands had known to flee immediately.
As bloodied fingers clawed through the grille of Mr. Friendship’s cage, he sat against the opposite wall, his hands against his ears. He would have another week to come up with a new plan while Mr. George reformed. He would be able to scavenge for scraps once it was day. For now, he tried to drown out the animalistic howls so he could fall asleep.