Who - or what - was this Heyoka?
Barely had the thought occurred to him before the crowd pushed through the tent flaps in one gigantic mob, plunging them into a mass of cavernous darkness.
The crowd quieted, hushed by some silent understanding as they filled the stands, filling the seats as naturally as breathing. Dean was led by the same little man that pulled him off the street, who was so excited that his teeth were visibly chattering.
A solemn atmosphere overcame the tent, as every inhabitant became as docile as a child. With bated breath, they sat still as if waiting for something.
Then, as the last of the crowd began to trail through the entrance, an explosion of spotlights burst to life overhead, casting the interior into a multicolored maelstrom.
Red, blue, green and gold streaked across the ceiling and walls as the music reached a fever pitch. The little men swayed in anticipation, cheering in sheer excitement.
He thought, at least, that they were excited. That was until he heard the voice.
A booming voice, shrill and sharp, echoed through the tent without any speakers, as if the tent itself had made the voice manifest. Unlike any Dean had heart, it was filled with mirth, mischief, and an otherworldly authority that coursed through the room with playful intent. The sentence was altogether incomprehensible, a string of unintelligible syllables he failed to make out. One word rang out clearly, however.
"DING DING DING… PARTTYYY!!"
At that, a surge of ecstatic energy shot through the crowd, leaving Dean exhilarated. It felt like the voice had reached in and drawn something primal out of him, igniting an uncontrollable urge to scream, move, and release every bit of tension. All of his restraint dissolved, replaced by wild euphoria.
Alongside little men, he jumped up and down, their laughter and shouts blending in tune with Heyoka's wild symphony. Their hearts raced, their bodies shook, and they lost control as they became entranced in the collective release.
And finally, his figure burst forth out of the darkness, a vibrant explosion of color and movement.
Raw energy manifest, sparking with manic enthusiasm and boundless mirth, Dean laid eyes upon the living embodiment of pure, unrestrained joy.
Dressed in the garb of a jester, decked in patchwork robes stitched from every hue imaginable that moved by themselves in a flurry of kaleidoscopic patterns.
He donned a scarlet red mask, complete with an exaggerated grin that obscured his face, with eyes narrow and mocking as if he were aware of innumerable hidden secrets. Underneath the multicolored light, the mask took on a sinister gleam that captivated the onlooker. And beneath it, titillating laughter rang out that further stirred their revelry.
He rode atop a serpentine stream of handkerchiefs that bucked and neighed beneath him, soaring around the tent in grand arcs like a dragon as he grasped his head in mock difficulty. He balanced effortlessly atop the beast, weaving in perfect sync with its chaotic tilt.
In celebration, for every lap around the tent, he raised his arms, collecting adulation as if he had just passed GO. Responding in kind, Dean rose in concert with the others to scream out loud. His presence was entirely hypnotic, entrancing the crowd and orchestrating the chaos with mindless ease.
Finally, the handkerchief dragon was subdued, beginning to laugh alongside him, and weaving low enough for the little men to reach up and touch it. They began to reach up and tear cloth from the dragon before they were swept up into the air in dizzying spirals. This continued until the dragon began to dissipate right beneath Heyoka's feet, and he began running in the air in Looney Tunes fashion, with a meager few handkerchiefs wrapped around his neck in the form of a cloak.
His body expanded, and the contrast between the tiny handkerchiefs holding the fat jester in the air drew laughs from the audience, before he landed squarely in the middle of the stage, now flanked by dozens of performers of every form. From beneath his cloak, he procured a giant rubber scepter, waving it left and right, producing collective noises from the audience.
He waved it left.
"Ooooooooooh"
He waved it right.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaah"
With a dramatic flourish, he slammed it into the ground, transforming the stable ground into a giant, swaying trampoline. Performers began to bounce in every direction, flipping comically and spinning wildly out of control while punctuating their movements with honks and slide whistles that seemed to come out of nowhere.
With every new gag, Heyoka seemed more delighted, and it seemed that the smile etched upon the mask began to stretch even wider. He appeared behind a fire-breather, tickling them and causing them to let out a flaming belch. He stuck his comically large toe in front of an acrobat, sending them spinning forward in an exploding cloud of pink and blue dust.
Dean ooohed and aaahed alongside the little men, laughed at every antic, and danced with reckless abandon. At this point, besides his size, he was entirely identical to the little men.
With a final leap, the jester pirouetted into the swirling chaos, diving headfirst into the frenzy. Among little men, flying handkerchiefs, and boisterous laughter, he swam amongst the vibrant chaos that engulfed the tent.
In one instant he was there - playing jokes.
In the next, he vanished - as if he was never there at all.
His absence had no effect on the festivities, and if anything, they were exacerbated by his departure. Dean danced amongst the little men with riotous joy, completely taken by the spirit of the carnival.
'It's so fun to dance!'
In a moment of clarity, a thought occurred to him.
'Why am I dancing?'
He remembered vaguely that he had come here for something. Then, why did he want to dance all of a sudden? In his confusion, he paused for a moment, placing his hand on his head to combat the rising headache that was striking him.
Instantly, there was a shift in tension within the room, as every tiny man turned to gaze at him in unison. The lights darkened to a malefic red that glinted over their eyes and reflected his still figure back to him.
The music stopped.