Apart from the news that the Western world may soon be monopolised by elderly white men who think that sexually assaulting a woman is actually light hearted flirting (no change there then), and the fact that every time Theresa May mentions her Brexit plans the value of sterling plunges to 50p and a bag of grapes, we are also enduring an epidemic of killer clowns*.
What a time to be alive.
Apparently the clowns are already prowling the length and breadth of America. Some of them are even standing for the presidency. One in particular is unusually easy to spot. He’s opted for the less traditional bright orange pan stick, a mouth like a cat’s arsehole and hair like a distressed shredded wheat. Unlike other killer clowns he doesn’t carry any weapons, but if you get too close his signature move is to grab you by the pussy, so just keep your distance.
Due to the saturation of clowns across North America, some of the clowns are now in the UK, taking full advantage of our lax border controls, free NHS and benefits. When they’re not clogging up the job centres, scrounging tax credits or working cash in hand making angry balloon animals for frightened children in church halls up and down the country, they’re menacing local parks and schools.
On a serious note, I imagine that bumping into a killer clown (despite the fact that to my knowledge they haven’t killed anyone yet) must be fucking terrifying if you’re taking your dog for a walk in the park last thing at night. I’m not that smitten with clowns, even in circus tents with all the lights on.
On the other hand, I did make myself laugh quite a lot wondering if the killer clowns, as well as wearing scary face masks, also wear hooped trousers and enormously long clown shoes. If they did, and I saw one looming out of the darkness at me, once I’d got over the initial terror, I’d be so bloody cross I’d totally go for them. I’d like to see them do a ninety degree turn and make a run for it without tripping over their shoes. Then I’d pounce.
If they got away from me there, I’m sure I’d catch up with them once they’d jumped into the getaway car, only to have all the doors fall off in the road.
*all the time I’ve been typing this post I’ve been singing Killer Clowns to the tune of Killer Queen, followed by Clown Killer to the tune of Psycho Killer by Talking Heads. Ready made ear worms. You are very welcome.