coulrophobia: an extreme or irrational fear of clowns.
Ben loves the circus. He’s a big fan. We’re talking about a guy who absolutely adores the circus. Every time the circus comes to town, Ben’s there. Every night, he’s there, sitting in the front row loving every minute of it.
So that time of year rolls round again, the circus comes to town and Ben’s there, first in the queue, best possible seats, front and centre with a big stupid smile on his face, sitting waiting to be entertained. It’s all going brilliantly until the new clown makes an appearance.
Announced by the ring master and some loud trumpeting music, Felches the Clown stumbles comically into the ring, immediately appears to trip over himself and falls towards some fresh steaming elephant poo… but… amazingly at the very last minute manages to turn a seemingly inevitable fall into an impressive double summersault which delivers him slap bang into the centre of the ring to loud cheers from the audience.
Raising one impossibly long spindly finger to his lips, Felches the Clown dramatically turns the cheers to silence and with a wry knowing smile begins to survey his audience.
Standing well over 6 feet tall, this is one imposing clown. He has a shocking mess of seemingly natural carrot orange hair which elevates him further still. He is dressed exactly as you would expect a circus clown to dress, albeit a clown who’s best days are behind him and is now forced to ply his trade in a tatty, frayed outfit covered in graying yellowish spots that only hint at once bright fluorescent splendor.
Thick pancake makeup creates a fitting canvas for his exaggerated and clumsy lipstick smile which points upwards either side of a bright red nose which in turn leads to black beady eyes framed dramatically by long dark spiking eyelashes. Beady eyes that are staring directly and intensely at Ben….
‘And what, may I ask would your name be?’ Announces the Clown as he strides slowly and confidently towards him.
‘Er… Ben’ he replies, surprised but delighted to suddenly find himself part of the spectacle.
‘Is that so?’ Says Felches, as he looks Ben up and down before bringing his shiny comical nose to within an inch of Ben’s own.
‘And tell me Ben, would I be correct in my assumption that you are the front end of an ass?”
”Err, no”, says Ben, confused and ever so slightly uncomfortable.
”Then Ben, would be correct if I suggested that you are in actual fact the back end of an ass?” continues Felches, taking a step back and surveying the audience trapping Ben in his seat from every side.
”Err, no”, Ben replies, hesitantly.
‘Ah, hah!’ Announces the Clown, triumphantly. “Then I put it to you sir, that it is no word of a lie when I conclude that YOU ARE NO END OF AN ASS!!”
The audience bursts into laughter, with all eyes on poor Ben, humiliated, close to tears and trapped in a fiery spotlight that lingers on him until the very last laugh has left the tent.
The next night, exactly the same thing happens except this time to make things even worse Ben finds himself jumping out of his seat and running out of the Big Top prompting even greater laughter from the crowd.
Still recovering from the absolute trauma of the experience poor Ben heads to his local pub to drown his sorrows.
The landlord greets him with a friendly smile and slides across the bar to take his order. Knowing all about Ben’s famous love of the circus, he also expresses his surprise to see him on a night when the circus is in town which prompts Ben to burst into tears and tell him the whole sorry story.
‘I’m finished with the Circus,’ sniffles Ben, wiping away the tears, ‘that dastardly clown has ruined it for me now, I’ve never felt so humiliated in my life.
The Landlord looks at him sympathetically and while pouring Ben a tall generous whiskey he tells him. ‘My mother always told me that no matter how hard a mule kicks, you have to get straight back in there and kick him twice as hard if you ever want to walk tall again’.
He then reaches for a card pinned to the back of the bar and tosses it towards Ben. Give Waldo a call he’ll sort you out, no problem, this sort of thing is his specialty.’
As the Landlord sets a big yellow phone in front of him, Ben looks at a colourful business card and considers it’s invitation.
The Amazing Waldo
Master of Ceremonies, King of Wicked Wit and Rapid Repartee
No problem too small, no mountain too high.
Call Now for a free consultation
Unexpectedly, yet delightfully, ten minutes later Ben finds himself putting down the receiver having just had an extremely pleasant and reassuring conversation with a charismatic and professional gentleman with the rather peculiar name of The Amazing Waldo, Master of Ceremonies, King of Wicked Wit and Rapid Repartee.
Much to his surprise he has also agreed to accompany this self proclaimed King of Wicked Wit and Rapid Repartee to the Circus the very next night on the promise that the Clown will have his comeuppance.
‘I’m familiar with Felching’ Assures The Amazing Waldo, Master of Ceremonies, King of Wicked Wit and Rapid Repartee, he likes to think he is a master of the ring but that sad creature doesn’t know who he’s up against. I promise you sir, tomorrow you shall have your satisfaction.
And so the next day, Ben returns to his beloved Circus, this time accompanied by The Amazing Waldo, Master of Ceremonies, King of Wicked Wit and Rapid Repartee.
The Amazing Waldo has booked ahead and secured the best seats in the house and reassured by the presence of his new companion once again takes his seat, front and centre and with a big stupid smile on his face waits to be entertained. The horse act is terrific, the trapeze is wondrous, and then out comes the clown….
Felches can’t believe his eyes. There, sitting in the front row, is Ben wearing his familiar blue anorak. He goes straight over.
“Tell me, sir”, he begins. “Are you the front end of an ass?”
Ben looks to The Amazing Waldo, Master of Ceremonies, King of Wicked Wit and Rapid Repartee, who coolly nods to Ben to give the clown his answer.
“No”, Ben replies, confidently.
“Then Sir, based on my amazing powers of deduction I must ask you if I am correct in my assessment that you are the back end of an ass?”
Ben glances once more at The Amazing Waldo, Master of Ceremonies, King of Wicked Wit and Rapid Repartee but again he just nods encouragingly. Encouragingly… yet knowingly.
“Ehm, No” replies Ben.
“Then Sir, I put it to you, that YOU ARE NO END OF AN ASS!” Concludes the Clown, victoriously.
Once more the audience erupts with laughter, and all appears lost for Ben when suddenly, finally, The Amazing Waldo, Master of Ceremonies, King of Wicked Wit and Rapid Repartee stands up.
With an audible gasp the audience falls silence, for they know that the man now standing right in front of Felches the Clown is none other than The Amazing Waldo, Master of Ceremonies, King of Wicked Wit and Rapid Repartee.
Slowly, with masterful confidence The Amazing Waldo, Master of Ceremonies, King of Wicked Wit and Rapid Repartee, begins to inspect the Clown from tip to toe and then… suddenly… violently… he grabs the clown by his lapels and pulls him to his face…
“FUCK OFF, YOU RED NOSED BASTARD!!!!”
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