Stripping away - Excerpts and Extras from Coulrophobia Series

'You're not a funny clown' he said. Pointing his finger at me, jabbing his pudgy didgets into my chest. 'You're a horrible, unfunny, messed up clown and I want you out my house now!'

 

I said nothing. What could I say? I wasn't funny, I was a mess, I was pretty horrible. Hell I was half drunk (if not more) by the time I got to the stupid kids party and then I helped myself to a few of the fat Dad's beers before starting my show. That last fact may go a long way to explaining why I made phallic rather than animal shapes out of those goddamn shape shifting balloons. Nobody but me found that very funny.

 

So yeh, as much as I hated doing what this wobbling suburban prick said, I knew I was in the wrong. I also knew if a sharp exit wasn't made then that little under-current of domestic violence that I sniffed in the air would soon be a full blown tide that would carry me away.

 

As I turned to go, I caught myself in the hall mirror. It was gaudy and tasteless. A spit worthy approximation of some never happened classical era that this jellied fool of a Dad was no doubt so very f*cking proud of. But still, I stopped for a second and saw past all that expensive tat and looked right at me. 'It's funny' I thought, 'ain't it amazing how on these bad days, all this make-up and pizazz just looks like so many old cuts and bruises".

 

Not funny ha ha. But funny somehow.

 

A pudgy finger pressed into my back. It was all I could do not to turn and spray some vodka from my button hole flower into his jowel quaking face, but I refrained.

 

'The world needs clowns' I thought to myself 'this guy knows nothing'. I would get another job, another pay packet and another blissful bottle of beer somewhere else. The world needs clowns you see. Someone to be better than. Someone to laugh at. A little relief when things get tense, a little punchbag when the sphincter is twitching with all that caffeine addled stress. Only problem with that is, who do the clowns get to laugh at?

 

I looked in the mirror one last time before the door closed behind me. 'Not funny' I thought 'not funny at all'. Who do I get to laugh at? Where do I go when I hear the call? The world needs clowns, but don't you ever wonder what the clown needs'

 

Nah, of course not, not if you don't need to, no if you don't want to. But still, next time you see one of us just think about how much all that shining makeup just looks like so many old cuts and bruises. If you're still laughing after that, well hell, you're a lower person than I'll ever be.

Done