West of Puentechatarra, near the abandoned Luckyland amusement park, stands one of the most dangerous places in the entire area. Large circular tents, decorated with faded, garishly coloured stripes, cover
a plain littered with the remains of a large funfair: wrecked food trucks, collapsed fairground stalls, rides turned into piles of scrap metal, and so on.
The main tents, however, are in fairly good condition and continue to stand against all odds. What this circus was called in its heyday is unknown, but now this place has been chosen by the lunatics of the Brotherhood of Laughing Madness as their base camp.
This brotherhood is a group of men and women who have dedicated their lives to bringing joy to the other unfortunate souls who live in the Wasteland. They know the stories about the ancient clowns who brought laughter and fun to young and old alike, and they have set out to take on the role of modern jesters to make the shitty world we inherited from the bastards who pressed the red button more bearable.
They dress in colourful, eye-catching uniforms that are too big for them, wear tacky or ridiculous hats, grow absurd moustaches, and some even manage to walk around in gigantic shoes. Bearded women, strongmen, bullfighters, and joking clowns form a very colourful group of people who just want to make you smile. And they might succeed… if it weren’t for the fact that they give you the creeps.
Although they call themselves the Brotherhood of Laughing Fools, or simply the Brotherhood, when they go on “tour” they refer to the group as the Troupe, and that is the name that has stuck.
The ringleaders, or direttori, are the natural leaders of any section of the Brotherhood (they call their Troupe what any other normal Parameño would call a band). They make plans, organise gigs, announce their shows with great fanfare and make sure their boys don’t go without work.
