The clown' tale

Apr 01, 2008 - 08:57 AM PST

Night had already fallen upon the city. Both Angus and Moe had smoked a lot pot by most standards; And suddenly realizing what had been going on for a while already, Angus approached Moe with the following question:
- What the fuck is that guy doing?
- Not sure. I think he’s some sort of a clown-magician-juggler-guy.
- Fucking hippie. What THE FUCK is he doing!
- I can’t listen to what he’s saying.
- It’s probably bullshit anyway. Look at him. Fucking bum.

The clown-magician-juggler guy stood under a spot of white light. He was dressed in loose pants with red circus-like stripes, a wool woven shirt, and a green cloth hat. Most people would have agreed with Angus’ description of him.
In order to have a wider perspective of the universe surrounding them, James and Moe went over to where the clown was. (By this time we can all agree he’s a clown.)
This is how they came by this story.



The Clown’s Tale

- You’re up in five.
This came as quite a surprise for the clown. Just then, he realized that in a matter of minutes, he’d have to go in front of a crowd of children. Wait. They were actually drugged up, emotionally unstable, crazy ass’ kids. Oh yeah. He was also on a mushroom trip. Doing a show on the psychiatric ward of the St. Mary’s Children’s Hospital seemed as a good idea. It was not only safe but predictable. That was before he joined his tour’s publicity manager on his journey to a seven-eleven. By which I mean eating mushrooms.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
- This is what separates a stoner from a true high roller.
- This is what makes me a man. - He said to himself.
He had decided that his well known ability to disguise his mind expanding trips to the real world was enough to keep him safe. After all, he was a master in deception and fantasy.
He stepped on stage.

- HIGH KIDS!!
- (Silence.)

He looked at the chief sister who indicated him to continue.
He would start off with his juggling number, the number one tool in dealing with an insane crowd. Just after starting, his balls turned into spike covered-wool demons. He reacted the way any true entertainer would have.
- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!
The sudden and violent end of his routine provoked mixed emotions in the crowd. Most of the kids didn’t even react. Except for one, who did stand up screaming.
- AAAHHHHH!!!
Suddenly feeling like his world was collapsing the clown reacted the way ANY high roller would: by screaming back.
- GET IT TOGETHER MAN!!!
- AAAAHHHHH!!
- WE’RE IN THIS TOGETHER!!!
- AAAHHHHHH!!!
- YOU`LL ATRACT THE BAD JUJU!!
- AAHHHH!!!!
- SERIOUSLY MAN YOU’RE PLAYING WITH FIRE!!!
- AHHHHH!!
- AAAHHHHH!!!
- AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!

By this time, the nurses and security guards were trying to settle down both the clown and the kid. It took three Dolac injections to put the clown down. He had entered into a mushroom driven panic attack and had claimed to be the reincarnation of Harry Houdini.

The guys had listened to the story with patience and expectancy. They were now contemplating on what it all meant.
- Damn.
- I know man.
- That guy. At least he’s more interesting than you’re regular hippie.
- Yeah.
- Still, I think he’s dressed like a fucking bum.

To be continued