�
�
Nobody really ever understood... but how could they? He sighed and carefully wiped the sweat beading on his gleaming white forehead.... He remembered the taunting... the teasing... and that drunk whore of a mother of his... She never gave a damn either... Even as a child he disliked the other children.. children were the most vile and cruel creatures alive in his opinion....yet he still yearned for their acceptance and approval after all these years...Of course there was always retribtution for his embarrassment... He smiled maniacally just thinking about his grand torture chamber behind the walls of the funhouse mirror.... and who would ever suspect those shrieks were actually of terror. Just like a cat with a mouse in a wondefully surreal maze... Just one wrong turn.... and they were his to toy with.... Of course the occasional adult happened to wander in and would have to be sent away... Afterall their simple petty middle class existences were far more gruesome than anything he could have done to torture them...
There had been that one woman though... so young. She was just like a doll he had thought. And he had so much fun brainwashing her and using her to ease his frustrations... but she had committed the ultimate sin.... How dare that bitch read his favorite nursery rhyme to another clown... Who did she think she was? Oh he spanked her alright.. just before he tied her on the bullseye to use her for what would be his best game of darts..... She had looked so pretty in her little pink tutu and fishnets... with all the feathers from the darts protruding from her body... It reminded him of a weird exotic bird... He liked it so much in fact that he left her hanging for a while... but eventually she just managed to stink up the tent so he let the lions have their own fun with her... besides.. she had distracted him from his first love...and that was his children.... How he missed his children... because no one loves a clown quite like they do.....
�
�~The Tears of a Clown~ courtesy of Christabel and Hell's Bells Publishing. Copyright 1998. May NOT be reproduced or used in any way without prior consent. Thank You.