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This Is Why I Hate Clowns



I could never understand how anyone could like clowns. Their ugly white painted faces are scary to look at and they act happy non-stop with their big shoes and squeaking red noses. Stupid high pitched silly voices. I swear if there was one thing on this earth that I can eliminate clowns would be definitely it. And of course, a clown is exactly what my daughter wants at her party. I told her it was going to scare her and make her cry but she didn’t care. She wanted balloon animals and silliness. I love the kid but she takes after her mother a little too much.

You walk into her room and there are clown dolls, statues, figurines, and other clown junk. I never thought I would need to give myself a motivational pep talk to walk into my child’s room. I’ve thought about playing that “It” movie for her and then sending Stephen King a thank you note. Maybe he’s actually the reason I hate clowns. Who knows? They just make me so damned uncomfortable. Maybe Killer Clowns from Outer Space would change her tone?

The problem with hiring a clown is that you need to pay them for their services. Why the Hell would I pay some idiot to act like an idiot and make me look like an idiot for paying him for his idiocy? I’ll say idiot one more time for good measure. We don’t have the money to pay for the damned clown so my wife gets the brilliant idea for me to dress up like a clown and make the day special. Daddy the Clown is what I would be called from now on. Sticking pencils into my eyeballs would be better.

My daughter’s birthday finally arrives and I’m sitting in the office staring down at the computer clock. The Bozo the Clown outfit sits on my desk right along with a make-up kit. Budget Bozo coming right up! Maybe if I pull the make-up job right I can at least get away with looking like the Joker. He’s a scary clown but for a different reason. That’s a clown that commands power. As I’m about to slip into the costume, the telephone rings and I pick it up. It’s my wife.

She tells me the clown I hired was amazing and that she couldn’t believe I would shell out the money for it. I tell her I didn’t hire any clown. In the background, I hear children laughing and an annoyingly loud pitched voice. It’s laughing like a maniac. I want to kill it. There’s a cold chill in my heart as I hear screams. Are the screams of happiness or terror? I can’t tell. My wife couldn’t stop laughing when I tried to speak to her. She laughed until it sounded like she was crying in pain. She struggled to breath and the line was quiet except for rasping for air and the chuckles of a clown…..

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Credits to: Human_Gravy

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