Friday, May 15, 2015

Comedy Month Selection IV: Convertible Clowns


 

CONVERTIBLE CLOWNS

by

Anthonystjoseph

     So there I was, walking downtown Denver, Colorado, with my friend Angela enjoying the local Jazz Festival and having a great time.  Angela and I are dressed casually but glamorous in our wonderfully casual glamour…  I have on my all white Cubavera pants with leather sandals and a loose fitting white pullover V-neck sweater with a tight white tee shirt underneath and my waist length dreadlocks flowing free and all my best jewelry on feeling wonderful and enjoying a serene day…  Angela points out the beautiful artwork that is covering the high rise to our left.  The high rise is painted all black with beautiful blue abstract crosses strategically placed all the way to the top and all around. 

     While we are admiring the graffiti type artwork on the building, Angela mentions that the painted high rise is a new trend going on and she has never seen one actually being done and that’s when I notice the guy painting the blue diagonal crosses on the building.  The guy painting the blue crosses on the building appears to be a vigilante graffiti artist waving blue paint cloths with his arms spread wide in a twirling and rapid rhythm while crossing and splatting the wet paint cloths onto the building forming the abstract diagonal crosses all over the building with blue paint splattering off the crosses; he almost appears to be listening to music and waving giant fans like he’s at a parade dancing with huge fans doing a fan dance of some sort. 

     And that’s when it happens, all of a sudden a whisk of air hits my face and blows Angela’s hair up in a puff and I look over at her gawked face and notice she has blue paint covering half her upper body; the other half opposite of me thank God.  A blue paint bomb has gone off near Angela and the ‘new’ paint style is clearly a new movement of coloring the buildings, the world, and any bystanders present when the art is created…  For Angela’s sake I hope its waterproof paint (insert giggle).  Angela like myself has hair past her shoulders that is naturally grown and cannot simply be replaced by taking out a weave and getting a new one. 

     Then all of a sudden another paint bomb goes off near us and this time it’s RED!  Oh Lord, my casual whites, my photo shoot whites!  I push Angela to the side using the gravitational force of pushing her, and not caring at all what’s happening to her, to propel my own selfish self behind a car away from the exploding red paint bomb…  I made it!  Then another red paint bomb lands right where I am hiding and I’m on the ground with no place to run.  I think fast and try to shield myself by just lifting my legs high holding them tightly together trying to deflect the blast hoping only the underside of my legs take the blast while keeping my hair and my jewelry safe…

     All of a sudden, a convertible clown car pulls up beside me with four clownish people inside covered with red paint and laughing their diabolical asses off.  I recognize the Convertible Clowns in one glance.  They are all my rebellious revolutionary friends from long ago in my bar days who are still living the frivolous life of bar people.  There is Old Toothless Tito in the passenger seat smiling all gums from ear to ear; we called him Toothless Tito because of all the Tanqueray he drank and the fact that it made most of his teeth fall out.  Then there was Theoda the Thug driving the car.  We all called Theoda a thug because she was known to steal everything from toothbrushes to toiletries and wash cloths to your own words…  Nothing Theoda had, did, or wrote was ever her own.  In the rear of the convertible clown car standing up in the back and laughing her ass off was Paula the Prison Bird who needs no explanation.  Also sitting down in the back and smiling like a Cheshire cat was Ridiculous Rodney; we called him Ridiculous Rodney because you never knew why he did anything and neither did he; his actions were always ridiculous and so was his life.

     I recognized them all as another red paint bomb went off and I couldn’t help laughing.  They were laughing hard as hell as I flipped them the bird as we were all laughing and flipping each other off and loving every minute of it…  The kind of fun that these Convertible Clowns and I had when we were young could never be disregarded or forgotten even though our lives had taken different turns…  That’s when through my laughter I saw Paula the Prison Bird pointing in my direction and looking at something far ahead of us.

     I realized the ‘prison bird’ was pointing at me and directing a huge grenade launcher of a paint machine off in the distance to lob all its artillery in my direction.  Oh hell no, I have never been accused of being a slow thinker; you can ask the paint soaked Angela about that.   I immediately leaped to the ground and grabbed a red paint grenade as it landed and hurled it into the center of the convertible clown car where it exploded all over the Convertible Clowns.  BAMM!  I heard all sorts of “you this’s” and “you that’s” from the paint covered clowns.  A true pack of crazy mad clowns at this point.  We all died in laughter… 

     Paula the Prison Bird decides she cannot live with me going out as the winner and she has had enough; she spastically goes for serious artillery.  Paula reaches into the front seat and grabs what is clearly the MX2000 Class 4 Nuclear Paint Bomb which is a five foot long water balloon filled with red paint converted to pure hell on earth and lobs it on top of me as I am incapacitated with laughter rolling on the ground.  I am trying to struggle free from the five foot long paint bomb while convulsively laughing which makes it impossible to maneuver away from the paint balloon before it explodes while the Convertible Clowns are shouting, “That’s the MX2000, BITCH!”

     That’s when it happens; the MX2000 explodes and goes off and my world goes RED!  All of a sudden it is Judgment Day and I am standing before God along with billions and billions of other souls but for some reason I am the only one covered in red paint.  God looks at the lone soul covered in red paint and says, “What is this?”  I say, “You see, what had happened was…”  Then my friend Angela steps forward covered in blue paint, “I’ll tell you what happened!” “Oh shut up Angela, damn, it’s my story.”

By

Anthonystjoseph

All works copyrighted copyright.jpg and protected by law

No comments:

Post a Comment