Cotton Candy Faygo

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The clown is getting all the laughs.

Yes, he's a birthday party clown, and it's his job, but you could do just as well without the ridiculous shoes and wig.

Everyone's loving his balloon animals, his cheap pratfalls, that childish whoopee cushion.

The kids love him, your son loves him, and the single mom you wore your nice shirt for is loving him. And he keeps honking his nose at her.

That laugh… that hellish laugh.

You haven't liked clowns in a long time, not since the war. Some call it plain, simple prejudice, but they weren't there, on the boats, watching clown after clown scurry aboard your vessel from their own candy-colored flotilla.

Just as quickly as you'd put one down with your cutlass or kick one into the churning ocean, another would replace him with bigger pants or a bigger banana cream pie. You were there watching that invasion force on tiny bicycles. You watched an entire platoon crawl out of one small car. 

You made it home, but many others didn't, and the honks still cause you sleepless nights.

You still get uncomfortable at the circus, or when that local used car dealership commercial comes on with the jaunty calliope music and the salesman dressed like a ‘Honkey.’

You know you're not supposed to use that slur anymore, but old habits are hard to break.

You know that over there, clowns are having similar thoughts about you, unable to shake the image of you with fire in your eyes and your conscience in the rear-view mirror. A shared human trauma that bridges cultures.

But it doesn't stop you from wanting to put this birthday party clown through a flaming table with a powerbomb.

It doesn’t stop you from wanting to piledrive him onto thumbtacks in the middle of the ring.

It doesn’t stop you from wanting to suplex him into an empty pool full of Lego bricks.

He's now done with his main show and is chatting up the single mom by the pile of wrapped presents. Luckily for you, you brought something refreshing to wash your contempt down with.

Cotton Candy Faygo. Sweet, refreshing, and bluer than the Michigan Wolverines. Perfect to throw into a cooler and take to the Gathering of the Juggalos to meet a nice girl you can bring back to your parents. You're pretty sure they'd be charmed with her black lipstick and eyebrow ring('rings' plural probably)

Ease your anti-clown rage with Cotton Candy Faygo, and maybe you'll finally be down with the clown.