Clowns

Timmy’s love of clowns was apparent in every aspect of his life. Other than his Dear Mother, clowns were his most favoritest things in the wide world. He had decorated his life with everything clown and had purchased, with the help of Dear Mother, all the available clown paraphernalia. He had clown sheets, a clown bed spread, clown pillows, clown posters on all four walls, clown statues and clown statuettes, clown figures and clown figurines, even some clown jammies complete with clown shoe slippers, the whole clown shebang. Timmy totally idolized clowns and without a doubt in his mind, one day, he would take up the red hair and rubber nose himself and forge a career in clowning.

One fine day, finer than most, Timmy saw a flyer pasted to the window of Nancy’s Knitting Surplus, announcing that the Baggins and Baggins Big Top Circus was coming to town a week from Friday. He was beside himself with excitement. With a quick look over each shoulder, he snatched the small poster from the shop window and made it his own.

The flyer was filled with colorful images. Lions and tigers growling at brave tamers, armed with only whip and stool. Trapeze artists hung suspended in midair. A tight rope walker defied death as she navigated a thread, but most importantly, as far as Timmy was concerned, was all the clowns. They were smiling and frowning, tall and small, there was even a clown dog, something Timmy decided he would have to see to believe. He hugged the flyer to his chest and ran all the way home, he couldn’t wait to tell Dear Mother. It would be Timmy’s first circus and his first time ever around living, breathing clowns.

The next nine days were practically sleepless, but when sleep did visit, it was filled with clown dreams. Fat clowns and skinny clowns, squat clowns and stretched clowns, even a dream about a clown dog, which Timmy was quite sure didn’t exist in reality, but was willing to give the Company of Baggins and Baggins a certain amount of artistic license in the making of their fliers. Timmy spoke so much of clowns during that nine-day period, that Dear Mother had doubled her dose of blue pills to two, instead of the usual one and cocktails started at two-thirty instead of four.

Finally, the big day had arrived! Timmy insisted that he and dear mother arrive at the Big Top two hours early, as he wanted the best seats in the house. This gave him time to get his popcorn and soda in order and perhaps, purchase, via Dear Mother, any clown memorabilia which might be available. Also, it allowed the level of anticipation to build to a frenzied state. As the lights in the Big Top dimmed, Timmy was on the verge of a full-on conniption fit.

First, the elephants rolled out, balancing on great balls, “Goodness, Dear Mother, look at how well they are trained!” Timmy exclaimed.

“All is right with the world, that’s for sure.” Dear Mother replied.

Second, came the acrobats, tumbling this way and that, leaping and jumping all around, in fact, they leapt and jumped on everything that was available to be leapt and jumped upon. “Golly, Dear Mother, I bet they could leap from here to the moon!”

“All is right with the world, that’s for sure.” replied Dear Mother.

Suddenly, a loud honk was heard throughout the Big Top, then the roar of an engine. From between the stands raced a tiny car. It zigged and zagged and spinned and spun all around the center ring, finally, screeching to a stop directly in front of Timmy. Slowly the door opened and out popped the most fabulous clown Timmy had ever seen. Colorful beyond imagination, with shoes as big as roasting pans. The clown searched the audience high and low, looking for what, Timmy did not know, until the clown’s gaze finally rested on him. Timmy’s mouth dropped open, the clown was looking at him. Out of the bajillions of people under the Big Top that night, the clown had chosen to look at him.

The clown moved toward Timmy, his big feet flopping and flapping, until he stopped and looked down at wide-eyed boy. “Are you the Horse’s head?” the clown asked into his big red microphone, his crimson smile stretching from ear to ear.

Timmy was frozen in place, dumbfounded and unable to reply with anything other than a slight grunt. “Huh?”

“Then you must be the horse’s ass!” shouted the clown. Immediately the crowd roared with laughter. Resounding belly-laughs, bounded off the canvas walls. Snickers and giggles snaked through the crowd. Hee-Haws and guffaws flooded young Timmy’s ears.

Timmy was humiliated, he wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. He looked around the Big Top, there wasn’t one person who wasn’t laughing at him. A clown dog leapt from the car and trotted up to Timmy, whereupon it nipped his ankle. The crowd roared even louder. Timmy ran from the Big Top in shame, not bothering to wait for Dear Mother. He ran and cried all the way home. Nothing was right with the world. His most favoritest thing in the world had made him out to be a fool. No more his idols, clowns became his enemies.

Why hadn’t he said anything? Why hadn’t he stood up for himself. Timmy asked himself these questions over and over. Timmy vowed that it would never happen again.

For the next few years, Timmy dedicated himself to studying the art of witty comebacks. He spent every waking hour in the library reading about witty comebacks. All through high school and into college, he obsessed over witty comebacks, finally graduating with an English degree, majoring in Witty Comebacks.

Timmy then went on to found his own school, the University of Witty Comebacks, where he could share his knowledge of the quip and teach others the art of the witty comeback.

After a few decades, as he is out for a stroll one evening, mentally developing situations and scenarios involving witty comebacks, he sees a flyer. Baggins and Baggins Big Top Circus is coming to town the Friday after next. He breaks out in a cold sweat when he sees the clown images on the small poster. As he stares at the foul actors, he devises a plan for revenge.

This time, on opening night, he foregoes the popcorn and soda, he needs to remain focused, he needs to be perfect, he must make the moment count. He finds the exact spot where he and Dear Mother had sat, so many years before and waits. Like a lion ready to pounce, he waits. Years of witty comeback preparation and knowledge is at his disposal.

The lights fade and the elephants come out, they roll around and around on their balls, but Timmy doesn’t allow himself to be distracted. The acrobats tumble out leaping and jumping this way and that, but Timmy pays them no mind. Finally, a loud honk echoes throughout the Big Top, then the roar of an engine, the clown is on his way. Just like before he zigs and zags and spins and spuns and screeches to a stop directly in front of Timmy. The clown walks straight up to him and asks the question, “Are you the horse’s head?”

Timmy grabs the microphone and yells, “Fuck you, clown!”

Sprucing up an old joke.