Before either Barrett or I could react, the cannon fired. It didn’t fire a cannonball at us, however. It instead fired confetti, forcing Barrett and me to cover our faces to avoid getting the paper in our eyes.
A singsong voice from within announced, “Looks like somebody is laaate!”
Blinking hard, I looked over the cannon to see a literal clown leaning against it. He looked like a stereotypical clown, complete with white face paint, a big, red rubber nose, and a multi-color wig that reminded me of a bowl of Skittles. He wore a baggy clown uniform that was the same colors as the Institute uniforms, while comically large shoes covered his feet. A large red bowtie hung around his neck.
“My, my,” said the clown with a soft chuckle. “Two tardy students? This year is off to just a most auspi
