The Clown
By Connor M. Jones
I was a circus clown in a rather big circus. My act was the classic clown act, a pie in the face, slipping on banana peels and what not. It was five years after I had joined the circus that I was fired. The ring master told me that my act just wasn't funny anymore. On my way out I met my replacement, who really seemed to dislike kids. It was pitiful that the guy even became a clown. I went to the dressing room and removed the big red shoes and goofy nose. I went home and changed into regular clothes, completely forgetting to remove the paint from my face. I walked outside and told my neighbor, who just happened to be my best friend, that I'd lost my job. He felt sorry for me and even mentioned that I still had the face paint on. I decided to go back in my house and remove the paint, crying as I did so. The more I cried the more the paint smeared a bit. This was why a clown wasn't supposed to cry or show his face to the crowd after it was squirted with water. I finally removed the last of the face paint when I received a call from the ringmaster. He said that my replacement had run off and that he was considering giving me my job back. I told him that I would like having my job back and I'd be right over. Now I continue my job of making people laugh. The End
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