Clowning Around

At my new job, we conduct regular creative writing workshops (awesome, right?). In the last workshop we participated in a cool exercise. Here’s how it worked: Each person had to roll three dice. Depending on what you rolled, you were assigned three markers that had to influence or form part of your story. Then you had 15 minutes to write something.

The below is my (edited) story:

Clowning Around

“Hey, hey, hey! Binky the Clown is here to put a smile on alllllll your faces.”

The senior citizens could only muster a meek welcome for their guest.

“How about we make some balloon animals together? I’ll definitely need a volunteer.” The clown scouted the room. “Sir, how about you? Why don’t you come up here and help me.”

“Oh no, oh no,” the old man replied.

The clown’s grin remained – whether it was forced or not, no one could tell. “Why not?”

“Because I’m late.”

The clown’s painted eyebrow shot upwards. “Late for what?”

“I’m late. I’m late for a very important date. No time to say hello, goodbye. I’m late, I’m late, I’m late.”

The seniors chuckled, but the clown merely nodded. “Some Lewis Carroll wit, I see…”

“No, I’m really late!”

The smile faded, and turned upside down. “Listen, buddy, just come up here and participate. You’re keeping us all waiting.”

“But I’m late!”

“Hey, old bag, I don’t care about you being late. I’m here to entertain you fossils, so get your saggy butt up here.”

“Too late…”

The old man’s arm swung upwards, his fist fully connecting with his glasslike, fragile jaw. There was a horrid cracking sound, followed by him collapsing to the floor.

The clown tickled his chin. The smile had come back. “Now that’s a punch line.”

– END –

In case you were wondering, my three markers were: clown, old age home and I’m late. I’m late for a very important date. No time to say hello, goodbye. I’m late, I’m late, I’m late.

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