The plane taxis toward the terminal. I suggest we buckle up, as many accidents occur at this point. What should appear out the window, in front of the wing, deliberately running toward the plane's wheel, but a clown. The body of a clown, anyway; on his shoulders is an oversized human skull. In no time at all he goes under the wheel. The plane bounces slightly, then comes to stop short of the ramp. A crowd comes running. We sit there, not knowing what to do next. It's quiet.
I guess the pilot decides we need to back up to the scene of the accident. Most of the people on the plane pile over to our side for a better view. We pull up beside not one, but two big-skulled clowns, dead on the tarmac, their huge clown feet pointing to the sky. What a waste.
I don't have a model of the clown, I'm afraid. Maybe I'll make one. Or maybe I won't. It was all quite horrible and I shouldn't be reminded.
But Empty Eyed Louie did remind me later.
6 comments:
As president of The Big Skull-Headed Clown Union chapter 435 Topeka, I take grave exception to your story. We have been trying to dispel the far-flung notion that Big Skull-Headed Clowns have a propensity for diving under the wheels of taxiing airplanes. This is simply NOT TRUE. Many Big Skull-Headed Clowns are productive citizens, working as Boy Scout Wranglers, Doughnut Sculptors, and even as Lawnmower Painters. To suggest that Big Skull-Headed Clowns are more likely to be squashed under the wheels of aircraft is totally out of proportion. Many more have been found vivisected on train tracks and mashed into paste under falling elevators. The incidence of Big Skull-Headed Clowns found beneath aircraft tires is actually much less; two, three a week, TOPS. Just thought you'd like to know. Thank you.
Thanks for the input, clowny, but it was my dream and I know what I saw. Maybe they were scabs.
Oh, great, now we have to deal with people DREAMING about us under airplane wheels. And people tell me I need therapy. I'm sure they were scabs; we have rules in our bylaws disallowing us to trans-destiny.
secretive self sacrificing scab clowns....
they're in paradise now.
with 21 virgin clowns each.
FORTY-TWO virgin clowns?? Isn't that the answer to the ultimate question? You know; Life, The Universe, and Everything?
Or maybe it's just me.
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