Character Intro: Jigglyspot

Apr 10, 2023 by PD Alleva

Jigglyspot and the Zero Intellect:

Character Introduction: Meet Jigglyspot




So, way back in 2017 I was on a phone call with someone who shall remain unnamed at this point in history, and, honestly, the phone call went to shit. All the while I’m seeing this person’s shit eating grin in my mind’s eye and I just can’t get rid of the image. I was pretty pissed off that day and towards the end of the conversation I said, “That’s it, now you’re a character in my next novel,” and hence the character Jigglyspot was born. Well, at least his height and always round belly and not to mention, of course, the shit eating grin.


Considering the person on the phone was-and I do need to make this point clear-a drug dealing pimp at one time in history, I added this little tidbit to Jiggly’s repertoire of manipulation and crime. But I needed a bit more and here’s where it came from.


I once had a cousin-I say once because unfortunately he is no longer breathing oxygen thanks to the lovely addiction of alcoholism-who had a peculiar white spot of hair on the left side of his head. He struggled with the bullies obviously, and once told me that his grandmother informed him that the white spot meant that he came from the warlocks. Yes, we are a strange family. So, when I was writing about Jigglyspot I used my cousin’s claim that he was a warlock. Seemed to fit in perfectly.


Of course that’s not all Jigglyspot is, but then again those are his most redeeming qualities. Jigglyspot is a half human, half warlock carnival clown whose hero is John Wayne Gacy. He’s also a lackey and pimp for other worldly beings and of course he despises humanity. He's diabolical, manipulative, can read thoughts and energy and don’t forget he was also raised by a species of clowns from outer space. So, at least he’s got that going for him.


Discover Jigglyspot and his cast of clowns, killers, demons, and wretched fiends, in a novel like you’ve never experienced. Horror, mayhem, thrills, chills, fantasy, and spoils are waiting for your reading eyes with an escape into the underworld of mind control and human slavery. 


Get to know Jigglyspot a bit more with the excerpt below and don’t’ forget, if you haven’t preordered Jigglyspot or added him to your KU subscription be sure to do that asap. You won’t want to miss out on what Jiggly’s got up his sleeve.  Click here to preorder from Amazon or here for Barnes and Noble. Already ordered? You rock. Click here to add Jiggly to your Goodreads shelf.


Thank you for reading, 





Jigglyspot Excerpt:




Part One

Casting Call




6:34 A.M.

Friday June 7, 2019

Brooklyn, NY



Jigglyspot stood in the middle of a barren living room holding a mop handle. Morning arrived not five minutes before and now gleamed through the windows. Jiggly took a deep breath. The smell of bleach burned his nostrils, a fragrance Jiggly had come to admire over the past few decades. He was proud of his work, noticing how the sunlight reflected on the light brown wood floor and across the beige walls in the empty brownstone. He’d done well. Not a spot of blood remained from last night’s carnage and mayhem. Jiggly would know. His eyesight was 20/20 and he could spot a pimple on a falcon if falcons ever had pimples. 

            He itched his stubbly cheek. White flecks from makeup crinkled by sweat-the cost of last night’s labor-flaked across his thick fingers. He’d gone with the traditional frowning clown last night. A red frown with large black circles around the eyes. All else was white. Jiggly enjoyed the clown style, always had. And why not? Gacy was a god in Jiggly’s mind. Plus, the clown style reminded him of home. People love clowns, but that wasn’t the problem, was it? Nope, not at all. Jiggly’s problem was with humanity, a species he despised more than he could fathom. Why? Because they have half a brain. At least to Jigglyspot, who always stared down on human beings as having not half a brain, but less than half, especially when compared to a Warlock, a fact Jigglyspot took with pride. 

Jiggly always knew he was a Warlock, his Nana had said so. And it was Nana who coined the name Jigglyspot; a reference to the white spot of hair on the right side of Jiggly’s occipital lobe and his always round stomach. It was the white spot that Nana said proved he came from the Warlocks, their signature trademark for any human who carried the Warlock gene which, according to Nana at least, meant that Jigglyspot was half human and half warlock, a reality that Jiggly also despised considering his contempt for humanity. Too bad Nana had abandoned him at the young age of eight. Double bad that the Warlocks had perished into the void millenniums ago, leaving Jigglyspot with no real connection to his heritage. Although, he was more than grateful for the otherworldly species that adopted him-something about their ancestors’ connection to the Warlocks prompted the decision-because it was through their kindness that Jigglyspot fell in love with the clown style. When they first arrived to gather Jiggly into their circle, they did so wearing clown outfits for the simple reason that little kids love clowns-also because their true features would cause one large ruckus should they have revealed themselves in the open. And Jiggly’s obsession with the clown style took hold on that very day.

But back to the humans. Stupid Human Scum is how Jiggly referred to them. The SHS or the Zero Intellect, whichever you choose is fine. He enjoyed looking down on them; inferior species deserve to be looked down on. Although Jiggly couldn’t look down on too many people, not with that pudgy five foot frame. Not at all. Jiggly looked down on people because on the inside he was large, with an energy larger than life, affording him a stature that crept through his eyes, those emerald blues, with just a touch more blue than green, when he stared down his victims. Made one feel hypnotized, circling, spiraling. Gone. 

            Jiggly laughed. Started laughing at least, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. His heavy husky voice bounced off the walls like an echo toppling over on itself as he laughed out loud. Then a sigh, followed by a deep breath. His nostrils burned with bleach and a hint of sulfur that filled his eyes with tears. 

            Or was he crying? 

            Couldn’t be. Warlocks don’t cry.

            And he had to tidy up; there was no time for tears. Finish what he started and be gone and leave the rest for the police. Of course, they’ll find nothing. Jigglyspot had been cleaning up body parts and discarding evidence for so long the process came naturally. Jiggly was proficient and meticulous, always had been. Even in the beginning when fear controlled the obsession to not get caught. Well, with one exception, his very first clean up. 

            But they always praised Jiggly for his expertise in cover up.

            They held him in the highest regard, knew his potential, and encouraged Jiggly’s desires. Not that any human could ever see the rising stock of Jigglyspot. All he ever received from humans was a quick disregard, dismissing him and all because of his size. Little did they know what lurked beneath the surface, the true Jiggly. But Jiggly learned to accept their dismissive nature, which, over time, became his greatest asset. Humans have been underestimating Jiggly since he was born, giving Jigglyspot the upper hand every time he identified his next victim. Half a brain, remember? 

            Less than half, by far.

            And Jiggly couldn’t wait to hear the praise. He knew they would send the accolades soon.