Somebody's just made a huge mistake...
Somebody's just ticked off the clown.



Back when I was about 16 I had a crush on this girl named Patty.

I wasn't the only clown in school, I was just the only one who'd opted against the plastic surgery most of us go through to make us look like regular people. The ridicule came hourly. "It's not Halloween anymore, Bozo, you can take the nose off," "Hey, Rudolph, no reindeer games for you!" "Hey, Bobo, stop clowning around!" "What are you, some kinda clown? Oops, guess so."

The beatings? They came daily.

One day Patty's boyfriend and two of his lackeys attacked me in the locker room before gym class, dragged me into the shower and tried scrubbing the birthmark off of my face with a brillo pad.

And I snapped.

When it was over and I'd wiped the blood and tears from my eyes, the three of them lay unconsious, bruised in body and ego but for the most part okay. See, the genetic mutation that makes us clowns look different (the nose, the discolored skin, the funny birthmarks) actually runs much deeper in some of us. Some of us can do things. I've seen clowns that could fly, clowns that could teleport, clowns that could throw fireballs. (The movie Wilder Napalm? Based on a true story.)

That day I found out what I could do. I found out I could really kick some ass. I'm not talking your conventional ass here, I'm talking about laying down a whooping like nobody's business; impervious to pain, strong as a dozen men, quick as lightning... a superclown. Now? It's very cool. But back then? I was scared out of my mind.
They suspended me from school for two weeks. It was their word against mine and nobody was ever going to believe a clown over a couple middle class white kids. Except Patty. She believed me.

She took me to her house after school that day, cleaned me up, buffed my nose. It was perfect. For just a few minutes I was a superclown and I was king of the world.

And then her father came home.

After he slammed the door behind me I could still hear him yelling. "Stay away from his kind, you hear me? I don't want you messin' with no clowns!"

I cried the entire walk home. But it wasn't because I was sad... It was because I was angry.

I still carry that anger. I keep it hidden deep down inside. And sometimes, when I need to, I bring it out.

And right now? It's one of those times.