Trivia Notes

[Eater of Clowns]

Part I

The taxi pulled up to 394 Rivet St. Outside it was dark and a cold rain came down to mix with the many dirt encrusted piles of old snow. The weather kept everyone off the street and out of the park across from my apartment. Together with my exhaustion from the flight, it felt later than it really was.

I reached for my wallet, glancing up at the meter as I did. I groaned. No doubt come Monday I'd be hearing an unhappy word or two from Steve about the fare. If they didn't want me taking a cab home they should have picked me up themselves. I wasn't about to ask a friend to drive a few hours on a Friday night; it's not like this was a vacation.

"Thanks," I said to the driver as I paid him. "Drive safe getting back. Sure is nasty out."

The driver just nodded. He hadn't said a word since he asked me where I was going over an hour ago.

"Pop the trunk?" I asked as I emerged into the wet night. A moment later it opened with a soft spring. I hefted the black duffel bag, strapping it to my shoulder. I closed the trunk and gave it a few solid thumps to let him know I was all set back here.

The cab pulled away as I came up to the front door of my building. I struggled with the keys for a minute before I could get the door open. The thing was heavy enough without the luggage counterbalancing me on my opposite shoulder. I shoved my way inside, dripping onto a rough faded red carpet. The door closed quickly behind me.

Waiting for me up on the third floor was a neat pile of mail. Mrs. Rosa must have noticed I wasn't around for the last few days. I'd have to get her a thank you card.

I set the duffel bag down as soon as I came through the door. It could wait until I was less tired. I shook myself out of my wet coat and left it draped across the bag.

Going through the kitchen cabinets, I cursed myself for leaving town with them so empty. I managed to find a bag of microwave popcorn and got it cooking. There was, thankfully, a single beer left in the fridge. I popped the tab on it open and took a long, thankful gulp. It was a nice hoppy IPA.

I was too hungry to care just how long that popcorn was waiting for me to remember it in the cabinet. I dumped the bag into a bowl, grabbed the can of beer, and padded over to the sofa. I emptied my pockets onto the coffee table and put my feet up, turning on the TV.

I needed something familiar. Something I'd seen before and I wouldn't have to pay too much attention to. Just to lose myself in a movie and relax.

The classic movie station was showing Pulp Fiction. Perfect. I'd seen it a dozen times. I flipped over to AMC. All of the choice language would be edited out, but it was one of those trivia notes showings. Every few minutes a box would pop up on the screen with a factoid about the movie.

Samuel L. Jackson was berating the sorry kids who ripped off his boss, giving them that terrifying stare. A little blue box came up, laying itself right over the Windsor knot on his tie. I could barely read the print I was so tired. It blurred into the rest of the box.

[Director Quentin Tarantino wrote this part with Samuel L. Jackson in mind.]

Reading these might just be enough to keep me awake, but not too much so. It was a balance I was still playing with. Stimulation enough to stop me from falling asleep at 9 but not enough to keep me awake until 1. I needed to get back on schedule; I hadn't slept properly in weeks.

Another trivia box popped up. I squinted and leaned forward to read it, crunching loudly on popcorn.

[The Key Grip's wife was cheating on him while this scene was being filmed.]

[Eater of Clowns]

Part II

I took another pull from the rapidly diminishing beer. I must have read that trivia piece wrong. What could that possibly have to do with the movie? I laughed to myself.

[Director Quentin Tarantino has never revealed the actual contents of the briefcase. Fan theories include gold, the stolen diamonds from his previous film Reservoir Dogs, and even Marsellus Wallace's soul.]

That one was interesting. The briefcase glowed when John Travolta opened it. I always figured it was light reflecting off the gold. The second theory was a fun one. Maybe that meant Steve Buscemi's character got away and is hiding out as a Buddy Holly look alike at a fifties themed restaurant.

[The Gaffer once struck a man while driving his car down a dark road. He never found out if the man was still alive. He's never told another soul.]

I choked on my beer, spilling some of it down the front of my shirt. Strangely, I looked around the apartment as though there would be another person there to see this happening. Bright blue light from the LCD bathed everything around me, lighting it softly, flickering as the images cut. I was alone.

Someone at AMC must be having some fun.

[Download our mobile app for a complete viewing experience.]

The ad annoyed me. At least the bogus factoids were interesting. This one disappeared after a few seconds. Just before cutting to commercials, another came up.

[Trust us. Download the app.]

I was awake now. Dammit, and curious. I grabbed my phone from the coffee table and started the download. With the phone still in hand I texted Ian. If anyone would have a strange enough sense of humor to appreciate this, it would be him. "Turn on amc. Read the trivia notes."

Pulp Fiction came back on.

[Butch asks for a pack of Red Apple cigarettes. The Red Apple brand has appeared in a number of Tarantino's films.]

The notes were back to normal. Of course, right after I text Ian about it.

[There is a man behind you.]

My handful of popcorn stopped halfway to my mouth. I dropped it back into the bowl and set the bowl on the cushion next to me. My apartment was pretty open. The sofa I sat on separated the living room from the dining room. Behind me was a breakfast table with high seats, and beyond that the kitchen. To my right was a short hallway that led to the single bedroom, the bathroom, and the door into the apartment. The door was at the top of three flights of old, creaky stairs. I sat up and listened.

[Do not look.]

It was all I could do not to crane my head around. Something was very wrong with the trivia notes.

[He means to do you harm.]

Just then my phone vibrated on the coffee table. The sudden flash of light and the sound made me jump. Ian texted back. "Pulp Fiction? Hey, want to go to Murphy's?"

After the phone went off there was hardly a sound in the apartment. No indication that I was anything but alone there. The knowledge was not comforting. A gust of wind whipped the cold rain against the building's windows.

[Run.]

[Eater of Clowns]

Part III

Purely on reflex I jumped up from the sofa. The suddenness of the movement sent the bowl of popcorn flying, scattering salt and still hard kernels across the cushions and the floor. The couch skidded back a few inches before halting, hard, as though stopping against something that should not be there.

I grabbed my phone and dashed for the door, glancing behind me as I ran. Was there a shape there, for the sofa to hit? I couldn't tell.

I took the stairs two at a time, fumbling with the touch screen on the phone to start up the amc app I'd just downloaded. Trivia notes, I needed trivia notes. They came up as a timeline that matched the movie's progress.

[Director Quentin Tarantino...]

No! I needed the more recent one. I reached the bottom of the stairs and flung open the heavy door. Standing with it open on the threshold, stung by the driven rain, I waited and listened. There was no sound of pursuit coming down the stairs. I thumbed further through the trivia notes.

[Run.]

That was the last one I saw. And I had. I kept scrolling forward.

[Run.]

[Run.]

[Run.]

I looked behind me again at the stairs. There was still no sign of a follower. The cold night looked a lot more foreboding than my comfortable, familiar entryway and the comfortable, familiar apartment at the top.

[He's using the fire escape.]

The fire escape came down on the far side of the building in an alley.

I dashed across the street, heading for the tiny neighborhood park. It had a few worn down soccer nets and an old field house and not much else. It would be dark on a night like this.

I shivered. I still wore the black pants and buttoned down shirt from the long travel day. I'd been too tired to take them off. I had removed my shoes, though, and now regretted that. My thin black socks were soaked through the moment I stepped outside. Every time they touched the cold, sodden turf of the park I got a little shock of pain. I stopped on the far side of the brick field house, ducking around the corner and looking back. There was still no sign of anyone following.

I flipped to the next trivia note.

[It's unlocked.]

I crept around to the north side of the field house. Halfway down the length of the building was a door. I tried the handle.

The note was right. It opened with a fierce squeal. I hoped the wind carried the sound away. A wall of blackness met me beyond the doorway. I tapped away from the amc app and brought up a blank white screen. The light was thin, but was enough to pierce the shadow to show me where I was going. Or what was waiting for me.

[Pæs]

I like this!

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Hell yes.  Not what I expected from the title.

[Eater of Clowns]

Part IV

The faint illumination was enough to see a sparse room containing a bucket, a ladder, a few discarded boards, and in the center, a chair. Satisfied, I switched back to the amc app.

[Have a seat.]

I closed the door behind me. My eyes wouldn't be able to adjust to this darkness so long as I kept looking at the backlit phone screen.

[Wait.]

The wind rattled the windows in their frames. Through it, absurdly, I could hear footsteps sloshing through the park, louder at first, then softer. It was impossible but it was what I heard.

[Wait.]

The old field house smelled of must and ammonia and, faintly, blood. I couldn't trust my senses, at once panicked and exhausted. But I had to trust the trivia notes.

[Wait.]

Wait.

[Wait.]

Wait. Why did I have to trust the trivia notes.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Holy sweet merciful fucking eagles. 

That was amazing.

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

This is fucking awesome.

[Eater of Clowns]

Holy sweet merciful fucking eagles. 

That was amazing.

Nigel, this is brilliant.

I've been wracking my brain for an ending but now I'm not sure I even need one.

Also, thank you everyone. This started from that little Netflix Plus blurb I put in LMNO's techmology thread. The idea really grew from there.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Holy sweet merciful fucking eagles. 

That was amazing.

Nigel, this is brilliant.

I've been wracking my brain for an ending but now I'm not sure I even need one.

Also, thank you everyone. This started from that little Netflix Plus blurb I put in LMNO's techmology thread. The idea really grew from there.

What'd I do??

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

And no, you don't actually need an "ending". You could leave it right there and all the hair on everybody's bodies would be totally on end, because HOLY FUCK.

[Eater of Clowns]

Holy sweet merciful fucking eagles. 

That was amazing.

Nigel, this is brilliant.

I've been wracking my brain for an ending but now I'm not sure I even need one.

Also, thank you everyone. This started from that little Netflix Plus blurb I put in LMNO's techmology thread. The idea really grew from there.

What'd I do??

Haha, you thought the story ended there, which is a possibility that I hadn't considered. Now I like that idea more and more.

[LMNO]

Wow.  That was pretty incredible.

[Junkenstein]

E.O.C!

More!

That is all.