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She tilted her head towards the Wolf. "But I'll let it stand. Everyone needs a few secrets - they make mysteries more exciting."

"I am nowhere near drunk enough to tell that story. You'll just have to live with the suspense."

"Again?" she echoed. "Now I'm curious about the first time."

Wolf shook his head. "I'm not gonna go there. Not again."

"So it did work! Yay."

She looked over the Wolf's shoulder at Spanky and glowered. "Remind me why he pulled out a piano? And turned my balcony into a mirror?"

"Were they supposed to be burnt into our eyelids?" He glanced at the clown again. "As long as someone's having fun..."

"Resurrection would have taken longer if not for that--" she said something in a grating language that was obviously highly uncomplimentary. "--deciding to crash another party of mine. I knew he was coming, but I forgot how irritating he can be."

She blinked. "By the way, have my secret codes been getting through alright?"

"Well, if you're gonna have a pinata, might as well have candy." He was curious, though, about how she managed to do a body swap like that. "I have to admit, I was not expecting to see you again this soon. Still, better than the crazy clown. I was assuming you wanted us to solve the mystery of your death, but since you're still alive...You have some other kind of fun planned for us? An invasion of imps prototyped with cheese, perhaps?"

"Does this help?" she teased.

Getting a little more serious, the Hostess said, "The body is in fact mine. That particular one is a little on the older side - hence the decay."

"I'm still trying to figure that out, actually. Clone? Illusion? Long lost evil twin who fell victim to a tragic curse that gave her a strange attraction to spears? Nah, that's too logical." He crossed his arms, glancing back at the clown for emphasis. "Still sad we didn't get candy."

"Oh, you do know how to make a girl blush. But if you look over there--" she gestured to where her decaying corpse still lay. "--you'll see that I'm not a corpse at all."

He spun around quickly, flames dancing around the edge of his cane, ready to lash out...

Then he saw who it was. "Oh, it's you. Gotta say, you look rather good for a corpse."

The Hostess had forgotten how much she hated that clown. He had just opened her Doom trap - without even looking at the riddle, mind - and then displaced it. Right where she was. Good thing she had poison immunity of her own.

Focusing, the Hostess painstakingly finished reforming her body an stepped through the Void door on the left staircase.

((Boom! I'm back, darlings!))

"Do you float? Please tell me you don't float . . ."

'Bad clown?!' he hopped and glanced around and shuffled around the Crimson Woman and flattened himself against her, hiding. 'Leeb, defend me,' he hissed, gazing wildly around, still not catching sight of the bad clown.

"Perhaps we should get moving while we still can. There has to be another doorway somewhere. Or we could brave the Clown's lair while he's distracted. I can always incinerate him if he tries anything." Wolf spoke a little too calmly about that. Then again, he didn't like clowns at all.

"Feen!" she hissed, clamping a hand down on his shoulder and pointing at Spanky. "Clown! Scary clown! Bad clown!" She immediately drew her finger pointer and extended it, holding it like a rapier. "If he asks you if you want to see a magic trick, say no!"

The Musician walked over to the piano, and reached out to play a sad tune for Spanky.

"I am curious," she said, "but you know what happens to curious cats."

"Such a pity." The clown said, then reached into its back pocket and pulled out a miniature grand piano. With a flick of the wrist, the instrument assumed a more regular size and thudded to the balcony floor, at which point the creature vaulted to lie upon it in a pose that was obviously meant to be seductive, but most certainly wasn't. "Ah, well. Probably for the best. I suppose you wouldn't be able to make it through, anyways. After all, if my dear thief of a friend couldn't, how would you be able to?" The creature moved to examine its fingernails, a grotesque expression of exaggerated disappointment on its masked visage. "It truly is a shame, though. After all, there are such lovely prizes for anyone who can make their way through."

"Picking fights at a party?" The Musician asked. "Doesn't sound like the best of ideas."

"I'm not so intent on exploring the house that I need to deal with this." He raised his cane, readying his magic in case something happened. "I'm very tempted to follow the traditional solution. If you say I should, I definitely will." He started backing towards the stairs.

'What do you normally do when a close friend mysteriously dies?'

"This is not good," they muttered, trying to pull everyone else away from the door and the... Clown... thingy... person. "Let's not go in there. It seems like a very, very bad idea." They were twitchy, seeming ready to bolt away from anything that might be thrown at them, sleeves rustling in a pattern that might be familiar to someone who had been observing them earlier.

The door shudders and jolts. From its bottom, a green ooze begins to seep onto the balcony floor, before covering it in entirety. After a mere moment, the ooze is absorbed into the very being of the flooring, and takes on a reflective sheen. Within the mirror's depths, a figure begins striding to the surface before emerging into the material plane, still walking up the very wall itself for a full two meters, at which point it falls towards the ground. Before striking the surface, however, it arches its back, rolling into a reverse somersault, then propels itself into the air in a double flip, landing with its back to the group and arms raised above its head. Upon realizing it's facing away from the group, it turns and re-emphasizes its pose.

The clothes the figure wears are an odd sort. The left side is a dull bronze in tone, while the right is a vibrant purple, both richly patterned, and a linen shirt below. The pants feature the same purple as the coat, and the same patterning as well. Upon its face is a brightly patterned mask, twisted into a manic grin. Its build is thin and whip-like, with long and lanky limbs. Also long was its hair, gathered together in a high horsetail, with a darkened appearance.

"I see that somebody wants to get into Spanky's Funhouse!" the being exclaims, seeming almost to flow towards the group, the mask moving as though it were the thing's own face. "You've got the wrong door, though! It's over here, you see." It sidles over to the door on the rightmost wall and opens it, spilling out a cloud of noxious fumes. "Oops!" the creature yelps, quickly shutting the door. "Wrong door!" It waves its hands towards the door, and the surface takes on a mirror sheen. The door is reopened, revealing a brightly lit room with vibrant coloring, and a cheery, jaunting tune with no readily discernible source. "Ah! Here it is!" It gestures for the group to enter, contorting its entire form into the motion. "Come now, and let's have some fun!"

((And so enters Spanky the Clown, at long last! For the actual appearance of the clothes, he's wearing Sheogorath's outfit from Skyrim, and for the mask, he's wearing this lovely little piece: https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/x/mardi-gras-mask-beads-1699285.jpg. As for the music being played in the Funhouse, it's this nice little tune: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=axUhLTD19xo. Hope you guys have some fun with him. [insert sinister chuckle here]))

He looked up at the ceiling. "Is this revenge for the seduction comment the other day? If so, I'm sorry." His apology made, he walked up to the door and stroked his chin under his mask. "Hm. If I'm right...I'm WW, the holder of the classes." He tried to open the door.