Le Clown is many things: an entertainer, a magnificent father, a gorgeous husband, an atheist-agnostic-nihilist, a very tall powerhouse who fears nothing… but movies about Le Satan. Before bed last night, we watched The Devil Inside. Le Clown played it cool in front of The Ringmistress: a possessed character on t.v. and Le Clown only cried from the inside. Otherwise, my wife witnessed the usual calm [and virile] composure which defines Le Clown on any given day.
The very-stoic-on-the-outside Le Clown kisses his wife goodnight: “I’m off to bed, Ringmistress“. “I’ll meet you shortly, Le Clown“. And off to bed goes a completely-panicked-and-scared-shitless-on-the-inside Le Clown. The room is dark – it’s usually what happens when you turn the lights off – and Lord Evil Poppy is snoring in backwards Latin (Le Clown and The Ringmistress are adepts of attachment parenting – LEP will surely sleep in our room until she’s 37). Le Clown is lying still, not moving a single red curly clown hair, and keeping his eyes wide open – there won’t be a possessed Le Clown on my watch, not tonight, Le Satan. Three minutes into it, and after seeing my whole life flash right in front of me – it was in glorious TechnicoloUr, it was joyful, and Le Clown was carried in the arms of cheerleaders [props to The National on the last one] – I ran upstairs [true story] and asked The Ringmistress, uncalm and uncollected, to join me in bed as Le Clown was freaking out. “Oh sweetie” says The Ringmistress, “I’m coming“.
I’m back in our room, under the blankets, looking at Lord Evil Poppy levitating – the shadows are laughing at me, and the ambient air whispers in my ears: “You’re going to die, Le Frenglish Clown“. My wife enters [she's gorgeous... you scored, Le Clown]. “Hush little baby go to sleep“, she sings to me. She then talks about stuff: “I was just writing a message to *bzzzz* *blah blah blah*“. The transmission stopped somewhere between her mouth and my ears – my best guess is that her words were afraid to enter my head, knowing it was haunted by visions of Le Satan. The Ringmistress feels my distress… And this is what she does, my Carnies. She raises the tone of her voice, and in her best Regan MacNeil impersonation, says: “It’s your morning with Lord Evil Poppy tomorrow. Muahahahahaha!!!“
Le Clown peed his clown PJs.
DISCLAIMER: Le Clown is an atheist but respects others’ faiths and practices… unless you believe in the church of Ronald McDonald.