Confetti Jazzhands and The Electric Jive Pilot Episode

introducing my crackfic mahou chūsei clown (Connie J).

Sprinkles. Piñata. Balloons. Icecream. Cake.

That’s what they said their names were.

Green. Orange. Blue. Red. Yellow.

The colors that they each themed themselves around. They said it was an important part of pixie culture to be chosen as a rainbow acolyte. Every pixie dreamed of being chosen and gifted a pixie mark by The Great Refractor. An elder god that gifted the pixies the powers to grant wishes.

“You look like Teddy Bears,” I said. As they told it they were pixies, bringers of joy and as such took on the form that their child would find the most joyous and appealing.

“And we five have just received our pixie marks!” Sprinkles continued, its cute little paw rubbing the image of multicolored sprinkles on its stomach. The action drew me from my mind and back into my body, “to complete our Light Baptism we must find the saddest little boy or girl and help them spread live and light in the world”

“I’m not little or a boy or a girl,” I said, smiling brightly making sure to show all of my teeth, “and besides I’m Confetti Jazzhands! I’m never sad.”

The teddy’s all looked at each other and then back to me. “Riiight,” they said together.

“Let’s just put the reasoning behind us,” Balloons said, sliding up to me and wrapping its little bear arms around my calf, “we want to help you. You are the perfect choice for the energy we need to become rainbow acolytes!”

“This is insane,” I said, pulling my leg from its squishy paws, “you should find someone who really needs your help. Someone who is actually suffering.”

Piñata poofed in front of me in a cloud of sparkles, “it’s not insane.” From nowhere behind its back Piñata pulled a giant metal meter and held it up and over to me. It began to beep wildly.

“What is that?” I leaned away from it feeling assaulted by the alarm.

“It’s the wishfulmeter,” Piñata said, voice mocking as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. They turned the meter to face me, the dials spinning around and around.

“Wish-fulfill-meter?” I tried the shape of it out in my mouth.

“Wishfulmeter, ” Cake politely corrected. Their voice was a wispy actress depressed at my lack of understanding towards their customs, “The meters measure the misery levels to see the probability of the kids’ wishes being granted.”

“Misery levels? What does misery have to do with wishes?” I asked to look at the device. It had graph gauging wishes and its relation to misery. The large red arrow grew and grew on the chart until it unrealistically began to threaten the edge of the screen pushing at it as if it would break free. I quickly shoved the Wishfulmeter back into Cake’s hands.

“The higher the misery the bigger the wish that can be granted” Icecream giggled, “if the kiddo really hates their life we can give them lots of positive things! We will leave and get reassigned once the kiddo can handle their life themselves”

Bzzzt! My smart watch buzzed, giving me the thirty minute warning. Fuck, I was going to be so late for the livestream. I pushed past the pixies, and said, “I am nearly 30! Hardly a child. Besides look at me,” I parted my raincoat and gestured to my clown outfit, “I’m a clown. If the pink jumpsuit, crop sweater, and ballet flats didn’t give it away, that is. Or, I will be if this livestream goes well. I finally got a chance to audition for an agency.”

The Pixiebears (as I will continue to call them) all poofed in front of me causing sparkles to hit my face. They attempted to use their plush little bodies to block my path. I shoved my way through them, enjoying the way their fur rubbed against my leg. It hit me with a wave of nostalgia— and suddenly I wanted to go home and climb in my bed. The weather was atrocious, dreary and threatening to rain all over the place just like when Dad died. Any sensible person would have wanted to stay at home, curled up scrolling on ClipClap, and Yestube, or watching Nextflix. But— I was Confetti Jazzhands, the king of nonsense, the entertainer of the hour, the clown they were all signing into see. I couldn’t let my grief or dislike of the weather keep me down. But, it would be my luck that I would be accosted in such moody weather by complete magical nonsense. Maybe there was a way I could spin this into a story time. I mean, the bears were all but begging for me to collaborate with them. My heart tightened in my chest, and I felt a heavy beat and could almost see a light in my mind’s eye. I shook my head, and clutched my chest. Nope. Better to keep my distance from these weird creatures.

“Look,” I said, “I am already living the dream. I’m actually headed there now, and because of this I’m running even later for my livestream than I already am. I’m not miserable, if you don’t believe me, come to the studio and see for yourselves”. As I punctuated my statement with a breath, a drop of rain plopped on my forehead.

Thank god I remembered to set my face up. I opened my pink umbrella just in time, as the rain began to pour. The Pixiebears huddled around me, pressing tightly up against my legs, and so I asked, “Do you dislike water?”

“No,” Cake said, pushing itself up higher ground using Icecream as its foundation.

“It’s more like, I don’t wanna get fluff-ffgh,” Icecream tried to say as Cake continued to situate upon its shoulders.

“Fluff rot,” Balloons filled in, “No one would want fluff rot from the gross ground getting all mucky cause the rain.”

“I can carry you,” I offered, already zipping up my jacket. I stooped and bundled the bears into my arms much like I had done many times as a child. The Pixiebears situated and Sprinkles maneuvered the umbrella that had become wedged into my armpit, and assured: “I’ve got this.”

I giggled at how silly I must have looked juggling the seemingly stuffed bears, my umbrella and back. The weather seemed to calm a little, but even with an umbrella the edges of my jumpsuit were still getting wet. I headed out of the alley, and up to the corner of Gwen Avenue. There sat a little café aptly named The Crossroads. Even though it wasn’t ideal, there was at least an awning I could stand under to text my manager, and order to Lyft.