The Clown

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All people know a circus clown when they see one. Jim the clown was not your typical circus clown, with gigantic fire engine red shoes on his tiny feet. He was very different in various ways.
His ears where so colossal, that they hung off the side of his head, like ears on an ancient elephant born deep in a lush tropical subterranean rain forest of South East Africa. Standing about nine feet in the air, swaying from side to side, like a redwood timber tree in the cold snow drifts Alps of Washington State. He towers over everyone he meets, like the skyscrapers of New York City. His hair, looked to be made of thick cotton, but curly as ribbon on a bow, a multicolored rainbow running from forehead the neckline and approximately an extra foot soaring from him crown. Jim the clown could be heard from miles around as his voice carried, as roughly as sandpaper, through the dusty cannon bottom of the poverty stricken village. A few nineteenth sentry cobble stone homes and rubble is all that remained.
Upon his pale pasty balloon shaped face were two perfectly round circles that sat upon his cheeks. These rose to attention whenever he smiled, but it was very rarely. They plummeted just as fast with a horrifying frown. Fear came to many when they saw him smile. For it brought a sensation of death and grief throughout the several villagers he encountered. His gums and teeth where so disfigured. A hazy banana yellow tint presided over them, whenever he smiled or talked.
Always dressed in jailbreak stripes, he wore red and white pants, an extremely large canary yellow bow tie. None of the children loved to see him but even fewer of them loved to hug him. With every tearing hugging embrace, they felt the smooth texture of his plum colored sequenced embedded velvet shirt.

If being nine feet off the ground was not enough, he was as round and rotten smelling as a decaying Florida naval orange.

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