“CATASTROPHE AT THE CIRCUS: COUNTABLE CASUALTIES CURRENTLY UNCOUNTED; MOST DEAD!”

A photograph shows:
The Circus Correspondent looking unwell as they stand in this future catacomb
In the background behind them, a Big-Top tent turned fallout zone.

The article reads,

A class clown who couldn’t cut it as a comedian

became a circus clown

because comedy wasn’t feeding him.

A small town that you’ve

definitely been to,

is blessed by a visit from the circus.

A chubby little boy who lives there feels something new;

He’s excited in lieu of nervous.

Our story begins with the calamity created

by these two paths’ convergence.

It begins at…

The Big Top with its

almost as big bright lights above.

A clown in the spotlight awaiting some

soon-to-be unfortunate son.

The clown has a cold, is having a crappy day,

is hiding a cough, his home is months away.

The circus circuit is

persistent, paying, consistent, staying, draining,

It’s…

the smiling bright light lure over the maw of the abyss

Meant to charm and enchant, distract, until you step in.

The clown fantasizes about the day he’ll quit.

One survivor associated with the circus,

but requesting to remain anonymous said,

“There’s this recurring Big Top-bit,

it’s a little mean-spirited, but

the clown makes a horse’s ass of a kid.”

A volunteer is selected by an assistant

a second spotlight blinds the kid more than it assists him.

His excitement and nervousness have switched again.

He steps into the damp and stamped-down dirt circle.

The spotlights merge as the kid takes stuttering steps over the dirt,

delivering him to this clown, unaware that

this clown's sharp teeth and jeering bite might

turn this into the lion’s den.

The boy before him can’t even be ten

overweight, glasses thick

Something catches in the clown;

He considers reconsidering making his words cut,

like the novice violin, but

he feels like shit, he wants to choose violence.

With that in mind, the clown decides,

The Big Top-bit with the horses’ ass is gonna become the elephants’

The clown asks the boy his name.

The boy freezes up under the hot lights,

he tries looking to where his parents would be

but all he can see is a phantom crowd;

seats packed with the shadows of his town

He feels hot and cold, young and old,

He swallows nothing from his mouth too dry

He’s about to cry, when he answers the clown,

“My name is [REDACTED]. What’s yours?”

“[REDACTED], huh?

I’m Chuck,” the clown says in his deeper, true voice.

“It’s short for Chuckles the Clown,”

he says, resuming his clown voice; performative.

Being informative, he continues

“I’m gonna ask you a few questions before we get you back to your parents.”

“Are you the elephant’s trunk?” Chuckles the Clown asks.

(He pantomimes his arms as an elephant’s trunk,)

(uses the ancient magic entrusted to all clowns to spray water into the air.)

“No,” the boy answers, unsure.

He’s flooded by visions of the clown

pinning him down,

spraying the water in his face until he drowns.

“Well, then you’ve gotta be the elephant’s big, floppy ears, right?”

(He flaps his hands by his ears, begins to levitate off the ground)

The wind from the improvised wings whips, loud.

Even though he can’t offer a sound

that could be heard over the wind and the roar of the crowd

the boy says, “No” and the clown knows.

While his wings are fluttering, there’s a stuttering

in Chuckle the Clown’s head.

Question three would be, will always be “Are you the horse's shoe?”

He should’ve thought this through more clearly before

He wants to ask something clever, something new, something he never-

mind, quantity rules quality when it comes to ritual.

He’ll think on it later, come up with the right question;

The circus feels like the possible impossible, and everything is eventual.

The Clown asks, just then:

“Are you the elephant’s… foot?”

(Lifting his oversized shoe to the boy’s face),

Chuck thinks the bright lights feel a lot hotter than usual.

The boy answers this time in a way instinctual

hoping a different answer can bring this to a quicker end,

“Yes,” he says,

“I am The Elephant’s Foot,”

That’s when the screaming begins.