Clowns Anonymous.

A clown, working as Uncle Frank, stands and addresses a group, gathered in the church hall on Flax street, North Wilmington, as a group has done every first Wednesday of the month for the past five years.
Uncle Frank says, ‘My name is Uncle Frank and I’m a clown,’
There is applause and cheering.
‘Welcome, Uncle Frank,’ the group responds and Uncle Frank says, ‘Thank you, you’re a wonderful audience.’
When the laughter and applause dies down, Uncle Frank starts the process known as ‘sharing.’
‘I did a kid’s party once in a trailer park in Piqua, Ohio. The adults were all drunk, they’d been drinking since 9.30 AM. I came on about 2.30. Two seconds into the act one guy stands up and throws a full beer can at me and says, “You’re not funny.” This started everyone heckling. I picked out one guy and said, “I fucked your mother last night. That wasn’t funny either,” and I got dragged off the stage and had the crap kicked out of me. I took a terrible beating that day but I vowed to get my revenge. Next year I arranged to get the same gig. This time I brought a gun. Just before I went on I grabbed the kid who’s birthday it was and brought him on stage with me. I had him in a headlock. “See if you think this is funny,” I said and I shot the kid through the foot. It was the best kids party I ever played. After the act I killed the kid anyway. The point of this whole story is, if you ever play the trailer parks in Piqua, Ohio, bring a gun.’
Uncle Frank sits down to a thunderous applause.

Next up is Rococo The Clown. Rococo is wearing a very ornate clown’s costume, possibly from the eighteenth century. He stands, holding up a bottle of scotch and says, ‘My name is Rococo and I’m pissed and baroque.’
There is restrained applause and someone whistles. Rococo is straining to keep his balance.
‘Welcome, Rococo,’ the group says and Rococo adjusts his red nose-bulb and says, ‘Thanks. I’d like to start my sharing tonight with a question.’
‘Go, Rococo,’ someone calls out and Rococo puts up a hand for silence. He says, ‘What's the difference between a dead cat on the road and a dead clown on the road?’
Someone shouts, ‘About $1.95.’
Everyone laughs.
Another one calls out, bitterly, ‘A cat can die nine times, tops. A clown can die every fucking working day of his life.’
There is a general muttering. Someone says, ‘Too true.’
Rococo says, ‘The difference between a dead cat on the road and a dead clown is there's skid marks in front of the cat.’
The room is quiet.
Rococ takes a drink from his bottle of scotch and says, ‘Fuck you,’ trips on his clown shoes and falls on his face. He is left lying on the floor.

Next to share are Izzy and Dizzy. Izzy and Dizzy do a conjoined-twins act and share the same clown suit.
They stand up together and Izzy says, ‘My name is Izzy and I’m the left half of a clown.’
Dizzy says, ‘My name is Dizzy and I’m the right half. Together we make one whole clown.’
There is applause. Someone calls out, ‘Way to go Izzy and Dizzy.’
Izzy says, ‘Not after next week, we won’t be together.’ There is a hint of acrimony in his tone.
A clown named Orgasmo, who specialises in ladies nights, puts his hand up. As usual he is standing. His outfit is a giant dildo and sitting is awkward as each leg is encased in a giant testicle. He says, ‘What do you mean? You’re not splitting up?’
Izzy says, ‘Yes, we’re separating.’
Orgasmo says, ‘Huh. This is part of the routine, right? Conjoined twins. Separating. Very good.’
Izzy says, ‘No, we’re really splitting up.’
Some people say, ‘Aw.’ Izzy and Dizzy sit down again.
A clown sitting near them says to Izzy, ‘What happened?’ and Izzy says, ‘He’s turned into a cunt. A giant cunt. You try working with a giant cunt strapped to you.’
Dizzy says, ‘Fuck you,’ and Izzy replies, ‘No, fuck you, giant cunt.’
A sad-clown beside Dizzy says, ‘So, what happened between you two?’
Dizzy says, ‘Tell me if you think this is funny. Two clowns walk into a bar. The bartender says, “What, are you kidding me?” ’
The sad-clown laughs, but it’s a polite laugh and Dizzy says, ‘See, it’s not funny like that. He keeps on telling it that way though, much in the way a giant cunt would keep telling it that way. Anyway, it’s not only that. That’s just the tip of the iceberg.’
The sad-clown says, ‘As the Titanic said to the…’ but he can’t come up with anything the Titanic could have been be talking to.
Orgasmo calls out, ‘A talking cunt. Hey, I like that.’
Dizzy says, ‘You can’t have it, Trevor.’
The sad-clown asks, ‘How should it go then? The gag.’ and Dizzy says, ‘The bartender should say, “What’s this, some kind of joke?” ‘
Izzy says, ‘That’s just so too obvious. If you were any sort of a real clown you’d know that. You’re not a real clown’s arsehole, Phil. You’re a giant cunt.’
Orgasmo says to Dizzy, ‘If you two really are breaking up maybe Dizzy and I could have a word after the show here. The ladies-night scene is really smoking. I’m thinking double act, dildo and giant talking cunt. It’d kill, Jack, I swear to God.’

At that point The Great Tumour-O stands and says, ‘My name is The Great Tumour-O and I’m a clown.’
The group says, ‘Welcome, Great Tumour-O.’
The Great Tumour-O is holding a large aubergine to his neck. It looks like a massive goitre. He says, ‘You’re all looking at my goitre, aren’t you.’
There is a small ripple of laughter. This is The Great Tumour-O’s standard opening line. He now puts the aubergine to his lips and says, ‘Hey, I’m playing the oboe-gine.’ There is another small laugh. He continues, ‘But seriously, I get most of my work from children’s cancer wards. I juggle plastic tumours, tell cancer jokes. I bring a bag of fresh liver pieces and make them come out from behind the kid’s ears. “Found a cancer,” I say. Boy, those liver bits really do look like tumours. I don’t work the adult wards that much. Hard rooms, very hard rooms. Had a guy chase me down the corridor once, wheeling his drip stand. Seventy five, riddle with cancer. He could still run like the fuck though. Quite amazing.’ The Great Tumour-O turns to the clown beside him, Pogo Bozo, who does an act with pogo sticks, and he puts his hand in front of Pogo’s mouth and tells him to cough. Pogo coughs and The Great Tumour-O opens his palm and he’s holding a piece of liver. He says, ‘My God, time to give up the cigars Pogo my boy.’ He holds up the liver and says, ‘Will you look at that, a piece of old Pogo’s lung.’
Pogo snatches the liver and throws it across the room. It hits Bad Cousin Raglan in the face and it sticks on his mouth. Bad Cousin Raglan swipes it away and says, ‘Goddamn it. If you’ve just given me cancer, Pogo…’
The Great Tumour-O says, ‘A guy’s flying to Chicago. The pilot announces they’ve just lost all the engines and are going to crash. A guy up the back says, “And my moron doctor told me I had six months to live.’
People laugh. The Great Tumour-O does his closing line. He says, ‘Thank you very much, you’ve been a wonderful audience. And don’t forget, cancer’s not just a word…’ and here everyone in the room joins in, ‘…it’s a sentence.’ He sits down to laughter and applause.

Next up is a mime, Doctor Scooter. It is his first time at one of these meetings. He tries to mime his name but no-one can get it. It goes like this.
Doctor Scooter mimes listening through a stethoscope.
Someone says, ‘You’re some kind of a doctor.’
Doctor Scooter nods encouragingly.
Someone else says, ‘A gynaecologist?’
Scooter shakes his head.
The Great Tumour-O says, ‘An oncologist?’
Another shake of the head from Scooter.
Someone asks, ‘What’s an oncologist?’ and The Great Tumour-O says, ‘It means a cancer doctor.’
‘Right,’ says the guy.
Tumour-O says to Scooter, ‘But you’re definitely some kind of doctor.’
Scooter shrugs.
‘A psychiatrist then?’’ someone asks and someone across the room says, ‘A psychiatrist doesn’t use a stethoscope, idiot.’
A clown in a plaid suit stands up and says, ‘Hey, talking about psychiatrists, an inmate knocks on a door in an asylum and says, ‘Who’s in there?’ ‘Nobody,’ says a voice. ‘Excellent,’ says the patient. ‘That means I must have escaped.’
Someone shouts, ‘Sit down, Fester.’
Someone else says, ‘I don’t get it.’
Fester says, ‘He was mad,’ and the guy who didn’t get it says, ‘Oh, right,’ but it’s obvious he still doesn’t understand the joke.
Doctor Scooter goes to the front of the hall and gets up on a table. He mimes riding a scooter. Someone shouts, ‘Scooter,’ and Doctor Scooter nods his head excitedly. The man says, ‘You’re a scooter.’
Doctor Scooter alternates between nodding and shaking his head. This is to indicate the man is half right. The man says, ‘You’re a scooter, but you’re not a scooter. How does that work?’
Someone says, ‘Maybe he’s on a motorcycle that’s broken down. You know how you can sit on it and push it along with your…’
Scooter shakes his head.
The motorcycle guy says, ‘But you’ve got wheels?’
Scooter nods.
‘And you’re a kind of a scooter but not a scooter.’
Doctor Scooter waves an arm around which is intended to indicate everyone should rewind, back to his being a doctor and the motorcycle guy says, ‘You’re a helicopter.’
Someone else says, ‘Not spinning like that. That’s more of an aeroplane. Anyway, helicopters have skids, they don’t have wheels.’
Uncle Frank says, ‘Some helicopters do.’ He says to Scooter, ‘Which one are you? Are you a helicopter or an aeroplane?’
Scooter shakes his head and Uncle Frank says, ‘Are you any form of aircraft?’
Again Scooter shakes his head and Uncle Frank says, ‘I give in then, tell us.’
Others agree and there is a call for Scooter to tell them.
Scooter mimes zipping his lips closed.
Frank says, ‘Well, can you write it down?’
At this point Doctor Scooter breaks with a tradition held sacred by mimes for hundreds of years and says, ‘Doctor Scooter. I’m Doctor Scooter.’
He gets down from the table and walks back to his seat and sits down. He looks unhappy and in his mind it’s all the stupid clowns’ fault and determines if he ever decides to share again it won’t be with this group.
Frank says, ‘I never did have much time for mimes.’

The door of the hall opens and hobo clown walks in. He is in full costume except for any pants and you can see his privates.
The room goes quiet.
The hobo clown says, ‘My name’s Buster The Clown and I just killed a prostitute.’ Buster has been drinking. He walks over to the group, finds a seat and sits down.
He takes out a flask of whisky and says, ‘So, where are we?’
Someone stands up and says, ‘Welcome, Buster. Would you like to share…’ and the man beside him pulls him back down and says, ‘Idiot.’
The man says, ‘Why?’ and the other guy says, ‘He’s a fucking psycho you moron.’
The man says, ‘Well, I didn’t know,’ and the other guy says, ‘Well, now you do.’
Buster stands up and says, ‘You want me to share? Okay, I’ll share.’ He takes a drink and continues. ‘I’m going down Rotterdam, right, and this piece of shit slut bitch come up to me. She’s not wearing pants and her tits are out all over the place and her perfume smells like a fucking urinal pellet. She says, “Do you want a girl, lovey?” I tell her to fuck off and she gets all snotty and tells me to fuck off so I grab her between the legs and squeeze and she’s all shouting out help and fuck so I bring out old Mr Brownie…’ and here Buster pulls out a Browning 9.00 mm semi automatic pistol and waves it around in the air, ‘and I give her head a taste of the butt. She goes down and I think while she’s down I may as well fuck her, which I do. Then I shoot her in the head.’ Buster stands, looking down with the pistol aimed at the floor, like he’s re-enacting the incident and he fires off a round. Everybody jumps. Buster says, ‘So now she’s a dead fucking piece of shit slut,’ and he drains the whisky flask and drops it to the floor. He says, ‘Ah, fuck this,’ and he turns and walks back to the door and out. There are sighs of relief.

Next to share is Fur-Ball. He stands and says, ‘My name is Fur-Ball and I’m a clown.’ Fur-Ball is best known for his routine where he juggles two cats and a chain saw.
The group says, ‘Welcome, Fur-Ball,’ and Fur-Ball says, ‘Thank you.’ There is clapping, then Fur-Ball continues. ‘I’d like to share with you tonight what being a clown means to me.’
Fester says, ‘Oh fuck, this is not going to be good,’ and the clown beside him says, ‘Shut up,’ and Fester says, ‘You just wait. This fuck’s shared before.’
Fur-Ball goes on, ‘To me it’s all about the children. The joy I give them when I’m being a clown. I live to see their faces light up, I love to hear them laugh. You lose that when you grow up. When you’re young, when you’re a little boy or a little girl, it’s a special age. It’s an age of innocence and untouched beauty. Their beautiful little bodies, so young and fresh and untainted. Pale, fresh, pure white skin.’
The Great OrgasmO says, ‘What the fuck?’
Uncle Frank stands up and says, ‘We warned you before about all this before, Fur-Ball.’
Fur-Ball says, ‘I was only saying…’ but Fester stands up as well and says, ‘Get the fuck out Fur-Ball. There’s the door, get the fuck out.’
Fur-Ball says, ‘Geeze, Fester, what’d I do…’
Fester says, ‘You’re a fucking pervert.’
Fur-Ball says, ‘Look…’ but now Izzy and Dizzy get up and they go over and Izzy says, ‘Fuck off you paedo bastard,’ and they both shove Fur-Ball in the chest and he falls to the ground. Some of the other clowns come over and they all start kicking Fur-Ball and one of them picks up a chair and smashes it on Fur-Ball’s face. Eventually Fur-Ball loses consciousness and they drag him to the door and toss him into the street. There is a blood.
The Great Orgasmo says, ‘And don’t come back you pervy bastard.’ Fur-Ball is still quite unconscious and doesn’t hear.

It’s now time for the refreshments. Coffee is served and a number of the clowns take out bottles and hip flasks and they top their coffees up with scotch and vodka and other spirits.
Doctor Scooter has gotten over his miff and has abandoned his coffee for a half bottle of brandy he has tucked inside his outfit. He is talking to Uncle Frank. He says, ‘Nice enough crowd. Easy room.’
Uncle Frank says, ‘Yes, in the main.’
Scooter looks around the hall.
Frank says, ‘So what’s your schtick then?’ and Scooter says, ‘I eat crazy stuff.’
Frank’s face lights up. He says, ‘Hey, no, I don’t believe it. You’re the guy that ate that whole car.’
Scooter says, ‘Yeah.’
Frank says, ‘Well I’ll be fucked. That’s some act. Boy, wait till I tell the group.’ He calls out, ‘Hey, you’ll never guess who this is.’
OrgasmO calls out, ‘We’ve already played that game.’
Frank says, ‘No, seriously. It’s the guy that ate that car.’
Fester says, ‘I saw that on TV,’ and he comes over and shakes hands with Scooter.
Other people drift over. The talk is all about the car eating act. People are asking him stuff. What’s the weirdest thing he’s ever eaten? Does he ever get indigestion? Doctor Scooter is now the focus of the whole evening. He decides he probably will come back next month after all.