They started a verbal fight, rather than a physical one.

Over the topic of nail polish.

It was the most ridiculous thing you could imagine. But then again, they were creepypastas, and creepypastas were known to be crazy.

"There's nothing wrong with wearing nail polish if it makes you feel comfortable!"

"That's fine and dandy, but for the last time – I am not wearing nail polish! As a matter of a fact, this entire subject has no relevance to the plotline whatsoever!"

"You don't have to deny these things; secrets make for bad thinking!"

"Oh, for Zaglo's sakes...!" Smirky shook his head, exasperated.

Laughing Jack resisted the urge to throw back his head and cackle like a mad clown.

He wasn't just doing it to wind Smirky up (although, such a satisfying little bonus was to his liking); he was loosening his tongue.

The illusionist had been apathetic at their ill-fated meeting's beginning; uninterested, and wallowing in lethargy to boot.

But now, the drowsy villain had woken up – and he was getting louder, stronger.

"Something went wrong when you were born, clearly. Get it through your thick skull; I. Am. Not-"

"I was created," L.J corrected slowly. "You're very confused." 

That was the last straw.

A dangerous growl rumbled deep within Smirky's throat. It broke fatigue's silver gate, brought him into a fleeting moment of wakefulness.

Without a trace of his previous sleep-thick tone, his next words became a distorted shout, teeth bared towards the source of his frustration.

"WhAT dO yOU wANt FrOM mE?! LEavE Me iN pEACe, yOU
PerVErSE-
ViLE-
INFURIATING sPaWn Of thE dEviL!"

The glitch effect wore off immediately after his outburst. His voice reverted to its usual unusual tone, albeit subdued.

"You'll tell me everything you know?" L.J chimed in, perking up.

And that's the story of how Laughing Jack made an unintentional discovery; prolonged annoyance dealt a bigger blow to Smirky's psyche than the promise of torture.

"... Will you take yourself, and your hideous mouth, out of this room if I do?"

"Yup. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye."

And, just like that, Smirky sighed in defeat and slumped his shoulders, hands going behind his back. "What do you want to know?"

L.J was happy to lay out his demands, inner lie detector on hyper mode. If Smirky did so much as twitch in a suspicious way, he'd see it.

"Okay. Let's start with basics: What have you done with Smiley? What exactly is Zalgo planning? And, are you still in denial about the nail polish?"

The last one was pure cheek.

The illusionist seated himself on the edge of his bed. After noticing something heavy at close hand, he looked to a side to see what it was.

A certain demonic bedtime storybook; carelessly tossed by L.J. Going a little pink in the face, Smirky pinched the spine and swiftly flung it high over his shoulder.

L.J watched it fly with mild fascination, before snapping his attention back into focus.

"Well? What of Smiley? Where is he, Smirky?"

He looked up with upmost innocence, eyes going glitter glitter. "Oh, Smiley? He's dead."

One could've heard a pin drop.

But it was an empty chocolate box instead, and it tumbled loose from the dust-ridden cobwebs as a mere silhouette in the blurred background, knocked down by the book.

Thump.

Around L.J's statue-still form, a menacing purple aura arose.

It bubbled. It brewed like a storm. Dark, dark, dark, and the radical opposite of pretty.

He rose a hand in gesture, curling his potent claws, speaking in a slow, silky tone.

"Say... Say that again." In a softer voice, he added: "Liar."

Smirky tilted his head to a side, shutting his eyes in pretend thought.

[Zalgo's exact words: "I took him here to administer a prototype drug. He won't be stepping out of line for awhile..."]

"Mm. Well, he's not beyond the reach of help yet, but my master left him in quite a... Difficult condition."

It wasn't a lie; it was a truth; a truth twisted to suit his deception like an invisible vine. And, unaware of being pricked by the thorns, Laughing Jack began to waver.

"Difficult condition...?"

The aura flickered, and dulled.

Ever the illusionist, Smirky gave a grim nod,
metaphorically tiptoeing over the clown's built-in lie detector.

"It would come as a surprise if he can still talk, after what Lord Zalgo did."

"What did he do...?"

He stifled a deliberate yawn.

"How should I know the visual specifics? I wasn't looking; I heard them. Smiley's terror-stricken begging, and then his howling screams, if you'd like me to be exact."

The only part that he selectively left out, was that the entire thing had been fuss over getting jabbed full of sedatives by a big needle.

Omitted or not, he was being honest; the woeful wails and pleading did happen, and he did hear them, and Smiley was more or less incapacitated – from being drugged.

All his words rang as sincere.

Not a flicker of L.J's demonic aura was left in sight.

"Tell me where he is! Now!"

The deceitful vines bore down on their entangled prey, choking him with their sinister thorns. He'd fallen into their trap. They won.

"In the lower dungeon. You'll find it if you- Urk!"

But, victory was stolen.

Deceit's vines were set aflame. They came undone, unraveled from their would-be-prey in loops, and turned on their creator, binding him into a blaze of scorching fire.

White-hot flashes of pain registered in Smirky's head. Burning wounds, welling up with crimson, occupied by L.J's vicious claws. 

Shouldn't have let his guard down.

He was thrown onto his back by force. The claws tore out of his chest, and left flying trails of blood their wake. His breath hitched.

Shock froze him.

In the meanwhile, he was straddled by the monochrome clown.

(For those of you with overactive imaginations: don't pop those bottles of brain bleach open, just yet. You might need them for later.)

Word count, word count, boosty, boost boost! ;)

"W-What are you doing?" The illusionist gasped. "You said you'd leave!"

Laughing Jack smiled sweetly.

"I lied."

Their weight difference was staggering. All he had to do was lean over Smirky's heaving chest, and it ended all attempts to push him off.

Twice as strong, twice as heavy, and thrice as deadly, L.J observed the look of horror on his face for five seconds, then lunged for the real kill.

He clamped his hands around the illusionist's neck, and began strangling him.

"This is for what you've done to me." Pause. "And for whatever you did to Smiley!"

Déjà vu. Those final words sparked a memory. He'd been about to kill his brother, in Smiley's own surgery, on his own operating table...

["Your screams just don't sound satisfying anymore! They've lost that... that thrill. You're useless to me now!"
Aimed the scalpel. It was sliced in half. No time to react. Something was already sinking into his back, ripping him apart...]

It'd all gone by so fast, like a blur. Now he remembered. He'd hadn't found a thrill in the screams at all, but he pretended to. For vengeance's sake.

["This is for whatever you did to Smiley!"
All he heard was that voice. He didn't know its name. He never saw the face it belonged to. But he clung onto memory of the voice. Even as memory itself faded.]

Dazed, Smirky fought back. Still so, so, weak...

[His finger lingered on the monochrome clown's photograph. Claws. They looked sharp enough. His eyes flickered over the glossy image.
"That clown. What's their name?" 
"He's not a creepypasta you'd want to mess with. That's all you need to know."
"He's the one who did this to me."] 

He couldn't speak, but once again, his eyes spoke for him. Fear and worry. Laughing Jack chuckled in sadistic glee, lowering his head to murmur last words in his ear.

"Revenge is fun, isn't it kiddo?"

R e v e n g e.  The word sent a bright blue electric chill down his spine.

No. It wasn't fun. It wasn't fun at all.

Forty seconds without oxygen. He could endure a minute more at most. After that? The dots would start dancing, the room would start to spin, and everything would go black.

Being aware of his fate made it a lot worse.

It was just one mistake; I can't lose to it!

Smirky tossed his head from side to side, trying to loosen the crushing vicegrip. He writhed in unbearable pain – from crushed throat and screeching lungs.

I can't lose!

He clawed and bit, he lashed out with well-aimed kicks.

Can't lose...

But, slow and steadily, his struggles were being beginning to fall sluggish.

As the strength drained away from his head, he relied on common survival instinct to keep himself fighting.

All of it was hopeless, fruitless.

Can't... win...

Until, at a final moment, the tables turned. Though, for better or worse, was entirely up for debate.

Victory may have been stolen, but it didn't win the war.

For either side.

The bedroom's unlocked door creaked open.

A curious head poked in. And the viewer's eyes went wide as saucers. Or rather, the black and white halves of his mask did.

It was Kagekao, back from his mission.

Zalgo knows what he'd been thinking, peeking into Smirky's room. Maybe to check if it was safe to do some extra snooping.

But what the dirty-minded Japanese demon saw, was entirely out of context.

Laughing Jack, in torn costume, straddling the illusionist's waist, leaning in ever so close to his neck, (obstructing sight of the strangulation altogether).

And Smirky – flushed brightly in the face (from suffocation), clawing feebly at the monochrome clown's exposed back, and making strange sounds (he was choking). 

Kagekao was stunned for a minute.

And then he screamed, triumphantly. His clawed hand went straight for the flash camera hidden in his hoodie pocket.

Click.

"I HAVE PROOF! MY SUSPICION WAS CORRECT; YOU HAVE BEEN COURTING WITH DEMONS!"

____________
A/N: "I'm interfering with Phantom's author note, to reassure you that any accusations Kagekao has towards me are... completely false."

*pushes Smirky off author's note* Yeah, yeah, tell it to the press! Oh, hey! That could make a great filler; a flashback to the original incident that sparked Kagekao's suspicion.
Would you guys be interested?
*cough* I think we need a brief interlude of humour to break up all this serious stuff *cough*

Question Of Le Day: Well? Would a little flashback filler starring a drunken Zalgo, a sleepy Smirky, and an overactive-minded Kagekao make you giggle? XD

Quote Of Le Day: "Play like a fool, loose like a winner."

Thank you for reading this chapter of We're All Crazy Here! If you liked it, hit that vote button like a piñata! If there's something you really liked, tell me about it in the comments; I'd love to hear from you!