Clowning Around

The war was winding down and all the villagers were talking about it. It had been a long winter and rations were running low. Reginald had gone missing the previous spring. Laura had asked after him to every visitor who came to town. As spring approached, hearts filled with hope.

What Laura didn't know, however, was that Reginald had returned from war weeks ago. For the last month, he'd been working as a common birthday clown, and was too ashamed to admit his newfound passion to his estranged wife.

He was quite good at clowning too. He was beginning to think he had a true gift for it. He liked the big shoes and the face paint, and he loved making people laugh. The only problem was the balloons. Balloons can pop, which didn't just startle Reg. A loud pop could send him back.

But maybe that's the thrill of it. The danger of operating on the edge of laughter and darkness.

What is madness, really? One minute you're a responsible, productive member of society, the next you're mindlessly trawling the streets at night looking for your next victim. At what point, you ask yourself, did you become obsessed with fur coats and the demons who inhabit them?

I suppose that’s life. And with that, I flung the human scalp behind my shoulder as I laid the finishing touches to my human skin Parka. This will be a handsome addition to my collection. My stuffed mammalian friends on the wall silently agreed. Revenge is good. Revenge is good.