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FOR FUN A Slaughter of Clowns
by David Ian
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(c) 2005 David Ian



(Establishing: Milling walla of murmerings of crowd in background)

REPORTER: (Very tense almost stage whisper)
I’m standing here, some 500 yards distant from the fringes of the protesting group as they are trouped together in loose groups of perhaps 25 to 50 each, and situated at the base of the tall marble steps that lead to the government building’s main hall doors. They seem animated enough amongst themselves despite what is decidedly a solemn and serious occasion considering what is at stake; though it could possibly be discerned from this reporter’s eye that some of the smiles are more painted on the participants than sincere.

The scene is very tense, a large crowd has gathered on either side here to watch this event—(suddenly) and the demonstrators are now beginning to arrange themselves, taking places in an orderly fashion, their signs of protest neatly lettered, some with slogans, others with sharp challenges hitting at the heart of key issues, and still others posing poignant questions concerning the abuse of entertainment and art. They are well intellectually represented and their organization shows a peaceful intent, they are not relying upon the emotion of the moment, appealing to the crowd and relying upon chaos to seize the day, which has happened before in less structured, and that is to say, more improvisational events in other parts of the country that has threatened to turn the larger issue into a three-ringed farce without a ringmaster.

This confrontation has been gaining the limelight over several months, rehearsed over and over again in small towns, larger boroughs, and now the curtain rises upon this stage, to play out what could be the final act, a drama of wills, as it were, and a juggling of ideals: Protesters exercising their freedom of assembly, freedom of speech, or for those with the inability to voice their opinion, certainly, freedom of expression.

As if on cue, the protesters begin to ascend the steps of the government building, in a well choreographed display, the front ranks, silent as ever, their expressions drawn upon their faces tell their story and their message. Behind them, the more vocal faction of the two and if it may be said more unpredictable, but at the same time sporting a wider variety of participants….they certainly can be said to be more colorful.

The crowd has been surprisingly neutral, or at last not showing its hand of support or dissention, although every now and then a passerby may honk in support which is answered by the protesters

(SFX: Honky horn distant, if possible with “Doppler effect”, answered by sporadic honky horns closer)

Wait, oh wait. Pouring out from the flanks of the government building, storm troopers have now flooded the top platform before the demonstrators can reach the high double doors, which, I can just tell through the windows, have been barred and barricaded.

The storm troopers are arrayed in battle armor, not civil riot gear, though they are wielding truncheons which are drawn and at the ready. The protesters seem unabated by this new development, still waving their “Don’t Gag My Silence” signs, although some have produced seltzer bottles from inside their volumous --

Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh my! This is—This is-- The storm troopers have lurched forward into the front line of tight-rope walking pantomimists and- and- oh!

They’re beating the mimes!
They’re beating the mimes!
They’re beating the mimes!
Ohhhhhh, this is terrific!

The mimes have rallied together and are feebly attempting to put up a protective invisible wall but the onslaught is too great! The storm troopers have burst through their defenses and now they are battering their way through the ranks unimpeded. The voiceless cries of the white-faced throng rip through the night air in a mournful keening wail of silence.

The clowns in the back ranks of protesters have dropped their “Bozo Pride” placards and have rushed forward with cream pies and seltzer bottles and released balloon doggies in a counter-attack, but the mimes in the middle are now getting crushed as these two forces collide. It’s truncheons and honky-horns as irresistible force meets immovable object and the melee is one solid wall of violence

And now the crowd, the crowd, drawn in by the spectacle are picking up whatever they can find for weapons and have fallen upon the mimes. The mimes are attempting to flee this new assault, surrounded on all fronts but it’s as futile as running against the wind!

And now the steps of the government building are flowing with blood and greasepaint. Fallen mimes and clowns are splayed out like rag dolls, trampled underfoot as the storm troopers push forward down the wide marble stairway. The crowd has flanked the sides and are joining in the carnage in earnest.

The mimes have broken ranks and have attempted escape by any means possible. It is an all out rout but the crowd has penned them in on all sides, and the beating continues.

The scene is hypnotic, the ebb and flow of bodies roiling in a singular picture of mime beating and clown pummeling… this governmental sanctioning now joined by a societal body partaking a base instinct… we all feel its calling, to beat, pummel and kick a mime or a clown… it’s as basic an instinct as finding shelter or protecting one’s young… this reporter himself feels drawn into the fray, no longer an objective observer, but driven by some ancient feral desire, no strike that, a NEED to, to, to…. AAAAUUUUUUGGGGHHH

(SFX: We hear the reporter emit a wild feral scream, loud sounds of beatings and honky horn squeaks. This goes on for a time until we cross fade to NEWSLINE theme music)

And such was the case around much of the nation and indeed the globe today, and for further update, we take you to Robert Parsons in London

SFX: Reporter yelling as if punching, kicking, beating with microphone, we hear the same melee sound & honky horns as in previous riot.

And from the other side of the globe from our Australasian desk, Kenneth Brawn files this report.

(SFX: Much more yelling and violence. Kenneth Brawn is really putting the boot to a clown, with each kick we hear the pathetic squeak of a honky horn)

To celebrate the new open sanctioning of mime beating and clown pummeling, World “Punch a Mime Month” and the Global Observance for “Kick a Clown” to occur during simultaneous time periods were announced at the UN today with a unanimous vote by the Security Council and is expected to pass through the General Assembly with only minor debate on the wording of the resolution.

In response to this new development, the representative for the World Wide League of Mimes had nothing to say.

Also across the globe, mime beatings and clown pummeling were the order of the day in every corner of the world, with exceptions of Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and the southern Indian sub-continent, where they were doused in gasoline and set on fire. Cannibal tribes in Papua New Guinea, however, refuse to eat mime or clown flesh.

Closer here to home, Ringling Bros. and Barnum and Bailey Circus, as well as Circus Circus touring shows were both stormed today in a coordinated effort by law enforcement and Violence to Clown task forces. Both of the popular family entertainment companies had been under investigation for suspicion of harboring clowns.

After the raid the joint agents impounded five mini clown cars, a trailer filled with clown costumes, make-up and other clown contraband and paraphernalia. Over half a dozen dogs and monkeys dressed in clown attire were seized, and a bear dressed in a clown hat and ruff had to be put down. Spokesman for the Violence to Clown Agency released a statement saying that the suspected clowns were probably tipped off prior to the raid and fled the scene and are now at large in the general community. They are assumed to be armed with squirt flowers and slapsticks and are considered to be extremely rowdy.

Residents of the affected areas are warned to stay inside, to not open your doors to anyone wearing a round red nose or orange fright wig, and to contact authorities or the VCA direct if you hear the flopping of large over-sized shoes.

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Member Comments
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Jesus Puppy  20 Nov 2006
Ahhh what hoot.. or should I say Honk.. :D


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