Hezediah Harlequin's House of Havok Introduction, Part One
Aboard the Big Top…
General Goode Griefous: “CLOWNS!”
Meet General Goode Griefous, Hezediah’s right hand man. Once a famed rodeo clown, his job now is to wrangle all the idiot clowns in service of 4H. He’s a hard working, no nonsense (aside from that shirt, yeesh) type of man and he does a solid job of keeping his charges in line.
Clowns: “YEAH, RIGHT!” Griefous: “Well, all rahyt! Now, where in the dickens are my LTAs?”
The Clown Rabble isn’t very smart, but there are just a whole lot of them. Seriously. If you see a single clown hanging around, you should probably run. It’s likely an ambush. Clowns generally come twenty to a squad and all twenty can somehow fit inside a single hover capable Clown Car. Point in fact, twenty clowns can usually find a way to fit inside any space that would normally hold a single minifig. The Clown Rabble is armed with a variety of basic melee weapons, a throwback to their prison gang days. Molotov Cocktails and shivs are a favorite. Clowns are creepy and scary in the extreme and have been known to intimidate foes right off the battlefield. There are deep rumors that that the word ‘clown’ is actually a derivative of the word ‘clone.’ How does that not scare you? An army of men and women that are all actually just one guy with a predilection for face makeup and kiddie parties.
The LTAs move into position behind the Rabble.
Griefous: “Glad y’all could make it. Hope it wasn’t too much trouble tah GIT YER BEHINDS IN GEAR, YA LAZY, GOOD FER NUTHIN’, BUFOONS! Ok, lessee, we got the Rabble…”
Rabble: “YEAH, RIGHT!”
Griefous: “…SHUT UP! An’ we got the LTAs…”
The Lighter Than Air Brigade, or LTAs, are a smaller squad of ranged clowns. Some say they get their name from being up in the air on stilts or sailing through the air after being fired from a canon but the name may just as likely be a reference to their delicious whipped cream pies. They typically come grouped in tens, with five on stilts (the better to give them height bonuses) armed with Pie Launchers and five to operate the Minifig Canon. The Canon is mounted on a rickety ass hover platform with no means of self propulsion so the remaining clowns in the squad just sort of push it around. The equipment all collapses, of course, but the extra space reduces the squad size so that they’ll all still fit in a Car if need be.
Griefous: “Now, how about the Tinkers?”
The Tinkers take their place inside the ring.
The Tinker’s Guild is an exclusive group of mechanical savants. Something within the warped clown psyche gives any given clown a peculiar understanding of spatial reality. Sometimes that manifests as genius instead of ridiculousness. Tinkers understand how things fit together in a way that few others ever can. The Guild is notorious for using this understanding to strip things apart with unbelievable speed just to see how they work. Unfortunately, they are still clowns and so they rarely get around to putting anything back together. Worse, they seem entertained by tearing the same things apart again and again. So it’s generally better to give them a target than to let them wander the starship. Tinkers come in squads of ten, each equipped with Mechanik tools. Each squad usually also carries at least two oil canisters (which pairs them well with the fire units). Like the LTAs, they maintain reduced squad size to fit into Clown Cars with their equipment. The Tinkers shown here are led by Master Artificer Bamboozle, whose prowess with his twin oversized wrenches, in combat and in engineering, is legendary. Don’t ask him about the leg, though.
Griefous: “And the Fire Brigade. Welp, that’s everyone. Now! What is our purpose?!”
Everyone: “To be ridiculous in the face of our enemies, to see them laughing helplessly before us, and to hear the giggles of their women!”
The Fire Brigade is another specialized squad of Clowns, numbering only five thanks to their cumbersome and dangerous equipment. Four fireclowns are armed with twin flamethrowers while the leader is armed with a missle launcher. The Fire Brigade does what any good fire department in the BrikVerse would do. The commit mass arson and ensure that the fires keep on blazing. The Brigade shown here is led by Fire Chief Hornswoggle. It really is a miracle that this guy is still breathing.
Sister Twisted: “Not everyone, Griefous. We’ll be joining you on this foray. I think it might be a little much for your little sideshow.”
Meet Sister Twisted, leader of the Basic Troupers, Hezediah’s left hand woman, and all around royal badass. Not much is known about her except that she’s wicked fast with those twin blades and more agile than any minifig has a right to be. There are whispers that her Bozon Count is even higher than Master Froyo’s and that she, too, is a master of the Farce.
Griefous: “TARNATION, WOMAN! I done asked you not to sneak up on me like that! Anyway, I think we’ll do just fine, thank you, but you’re welcome to tag along if you honestly think you’ll be any help. Where is your crew anyways?”
Sister Twisted: “Oh, they’re around.”
Basic Troupers make up the special ops squads of 4H. They come in trios, as they are not clowns and are indeed highly specialized units. Famous for their explosive juggling act, Troupers are aggressive and deadly assassins.
Hezediah Harlequin: “Are my fucking Rings ready to drop yet, goddammit!?”
Meet Hezediah Harlequin, Ringmaster of the House of Havok, gritty ass kicker, and one severely foul mouthed sonuvabitch. Often seen yelling orders through his bull horn, Hez is an angry, busy man. Despite his gruff disposition, his people are steadfastly loyal to him. He wields a golden scepter into the hilt of which are carved strange runes. Most folks agree that it’s magikal but few know how.
Griefous: “Jus’ about, Sir. Roundin’ up the stragglers now. We should be ready to deploy momentarily.”
Hez: “Finally, some good fucking news! Well, hurry the fuck up then. I want to get this shitfest started. Those goddamn researcher fucks down there have been stuck here for ages, doing geological surveys or some shit. They haven’t had a good fucking fight in a long ass time. They’ll be glad to see the circus in town. Oh, and make sure these dipshits keep their limbs inside the Ring when it drops. The raining body parts bit was only funny the first fucking thirty-two times.”
Griefous: “Yessiree.”
Hez: “Alright, listen up, you fuckwits! I expect—Oh, Goddammit! Where the hell is my brother?”
Griefous: “Uhh, well, he’s in Hangar Bay Red, Hez. Said there was more room over yonder fer the Menagerie. I figgered you knew.”
Hez: “Course I fucking didn’t. Fine. Goddamn. I’ll go prep that motherfucking Ring too. Just wait til I send the damn go signal, yeah?”
Griefous: “Yer the boss, hoss.”
Hez: “Oh, and before I forget. You two spangled, creepy fucks in the back! Yeah, I saw you sneak in, you goddamn weirdos. You ever burn those packs before we hit atmo again, and I’ll see to it that the Fire Brigade here puts you out, got it? I’ve still got idiot fucking clowns trying to put out fires all over the damn ship.”
Hez: “Goddamn Divas.”
The Acrobats used to be relatively large in number. Meet the *alleged* reason they aren’t anymore. J’onn and J’aan Fister, brother and sister acrobats extraordinaire. Or, as they call themselves, the Glam Fisters. Each is equipped with a specialized rocket pack and two steel whips (which they use as often to perform insane aerial maneuvers as they do to perform deadly aerial attacks). The other ex-acrobats were fitted with jetpacks too but their all underwent mysterious malfunctions at extremely inopportune times. The siblings want to share the spot light with each other…and only each other. If you know what I mean. And I think you do. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, VOMIT.
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