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Jack leans in closer to you. his face is still invisible, but you can see his mouth more clearly now. He has no lips or any real cheeks to speak of, and his mouth is raw and bloody, expect for his teeth, which shine a brilliant white, without even a speck of blood or flesh upon them. He is close enough for you to smell his breath now. It smells of the earth, and of the sea. Not rancid, just old and salty. Crisp and clean in a way that you cannot seem to describe, with some sort of earthy smell as well. Go͡ a͝hea͟d̵.̵ ̧Smil͜e. S͢how ̧m͞e.͠ ́I wan̶t͟ to s͝ee̕ it͏ ͟on y̴our̕ f̴a͠ce̛, p͏u͜l͢s͞a̴t̵i̛n̛g th͏r̛oưg͡h̀ ̡e͘ver̨y̵ ͜pore̸ ͞ǫf y̕o͜ur hid͟e̶o͠us̨ ̡li҉t̡tle ͜bod͞y. ̡I wan҉t ̴yoų t̛o͝ RAD͡ÍAT̡E͟ m͡a͏d͟ne̛ss and̀ l̴a̸u͏gh̡te͞r ͟in a ͟gloriǫu͟s͡ ̸cac҉o͟p͝h̢a͘ny ̀o͏f in̸s͠a̶n͘i͟t҉y̵ ̛àńd s͏o͞u͡n̸d̶ ͜án̕d ͢abso͠lu̢te c̵ha͝o͘s̀. ̧D̨O͏ IT̸.͝ I҉ ̸W̷ANT T͘O̵ ̨W͞A͟T̸CH͞.͝ .͘.. ͟ C͟an̨'t͟?͡ I͠ ͝th̴ou҉gh̷t not. ̵Nice ̕t̕r̶y ͟th͘o͜ug̀h҉, kid͘do͝. ́No,̸ I'm͘ ̴goi͜n͜g tó br̡in̶g t͏hi̧s͝ backwat͟er̷ l̨itt̨ĺe͟ ̵tǫwn ̨exáct͏l͜y ̴w̴ha͏t̛ ͢ìt̵ ne̸eds̨:̸ A̶ ̸h͏eal̀thy ͡dòse of͏ ̀LIFE͢. ͢J͢úst͜ ̕i̸m҉ág͘ine th͢ę gl̴ori̕ous̷ ̶ma͟d͠nes̀s͞, t̵h́e creat͞i͏vit̨y͘, ͏t̀he ͡ĢR͝OWTH!̧ I҉ ͠a̵m a for͝c̕e fo͝r ͡g͝ro̸wt͞h, ̧y̴ou̸ ķno͝w͘, ̕a̢ǹd̷ i'̸m͏ not l̴e̴àving ͢uńt͡i̴l͟ ͏I͘ ͏ma͠ke͡ ̀thi͝s̨ p͠la̧c͠e th҉ȩ ̛bes͟ţ ͝ļíttl͝e t͞own ҉it̡ ͡c̢àn b͝e.͜ ̛H͜E̕E͘ HĘE̛ ̢HEE ͏H̸E͠E HEE͠ ̧HE͏E͏ HE͝E̷ H͏EE͜ H̶EE̴ ͠H͠EE!҉ ͠Oh, Oh Clowǹeee̷e͟y! ͢C̷om̴e ̷in h̀ȩre,͢ I҉'͘ve ҉g͏ot́ ͠some̷t̨h̴i̶n̸g very ҉sp̸ec͢i̡al͜ ͘for͡ yo̵ú.͘ H̷ow ͠wo͠uld͜ ͘you l̨ik͡e to ̵be ̀m҉y ̵l̸it͠t͘l͞e part̸n͢e̵r ̀i҉n crime? I͢'̶l͝l̡ giv͠e ̷ýo̢ų e̷v̴ery͠t͢hi҉ng yo͟u ̀n͡e̡e͏d.̢ Even,͝ if̀ you͞'ŗe ͠nic͟e͢,͠ ͢a͠ l̸i͟ttle͠ ͏bit of po̸ẁer͘.͢ ҉I̧magįne͘ ̡t͠hat ̛Clo̸wn͝e͟y̸.̕ ̀P͏OWE̴R͘.̕ J͡us҉t҉ for͞ yo͏u. A͟H͢EE H͝E̛E ͡H͟ȨE ̷HEE H̶A ̡HA̢ H̢ ͢AHA̧ H͏A͠ ̡HA ͜H̕A̢V͝ HA ̸HA HA ́ḨA HA͟SG ̡H͞A̶ ͝H ́AH͏VSJ̡ ͟HA͟ ̵H͠A!
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