The clown never expected today to be his last day. If he had, maybe he would have gone home and changed out of his costume and not have tried to be a hero. But this was the life of the clown. Nothing ever went the way he expected. Though in his final minutes he kept true to himself.
The clown entered the convenience store with the hopes of picking up a soda, a candy bar and maybe a six-pack of cheap beer and exit quickly back to his house to take a shower and lay on his couch while watching episodes of television he had seen plenty of times before. It was while standing at the beer cooler that he heard the bells of the door ringing. He had no reason to suspect any foul play to be afoot, hundreds of people walk through that door everyday. But then he heard the shouting.
He turned to the commotion and saw a figure waving something that looked like a gun in the store worker’s face. The clown knew that this could escalate into something where a life could be taken. He made a decision.
He walked to the young man with the gun.
“Well helllllooooo there sonny!,”the clown said.
The gunman looked at the clown in a confused manner.
“What the fuck is this?”
“Wow there sonny, that’s no way to speak to a friend and Chuckles here is everybody’s friend!”
“You got to be shittin’ me.”
The gunman looked back at the store clerk, “Keep putting the money in the bag you fuck!”.
The clerk does as told. The clown starts to run in circles running into a wire rack holding magazines. He falls with a crash. Jumps back to his feet bellowing a ridiculous laugh. He then goes to one knee outstretches his hands above his head and says,”Ta daa!”. The gunman looks at him. This is when the clown squirts the gunman in the face with a stream of water from a flower that is attached to his shirt.
“What the fuck man!”
The gunman not taking kindly to the clown’s act hits the clown in the back of the head with the butt of his gun. The clown falls hard face forward, his head bouncing off the hard tile. The clown blinks trying to clear his vision. All he sees is the blood seeping from his head collecting in a puddle in front of him and a red ball that he recognizes a his nose.
When the gunman’s business is complete he turns to run out of the store. The clown can only see his feet. He watches as the gunman’s foot steps on his nose. A squeak emits from underneath the sneaker. The clown silently laughs to himself and smiles as he closes his eyes.