MEANWHILE ON CLOWN CITY (which is a planet!)

”Television Clown is filmed before a live studio audience!”

Live Studio Audience Planet (which is actually a planet, because why would they name their planet something besides ‘planet’, that would be odd) sits on their planet which is made of studio audience seating, eating popcorn.

Clown Clown, the clown whose deal is that he is a bog standard clown…

(Not to be confused with Standard Bog Clown, who is a bog-themed clown who lives in the swamps of Clown Marsh)

Anyway, Clown Clown sits in his somewhat-too-large-for-a-realistic-apartment apartment soundstage, wearing a flannel shirt.

He walks to his fridge and reaches in there…

”C’moooooon…”

”What are you doing in there?”

Clown Clown suddenly retracts his hand and shuts the fridge door. Standing with his shoulder beside the fridge is his short stocky roommate clown, Roommate Clown!

”Roommate Clown?!?”

”That’s my name. Please wear it out.”

LAUGH

Blares the audience prompter, which is resting on Audience Prompter Planet.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

The people of Studio Audience Planet are going fucking nuts for this exchange.

The Audience Prompter Planet signal shuts off.

Clown Clown and Roommate Clown both glance toward Audience Prompter Planet curiously.

”Does anybody actually know who runs that thing?”

”No one. That planet wasn’t here last week.”

”That’s impossible.” Clown Clown strokes his chin.

”You know what’s impossible?” Roommate Clown crosses his arms. ”Keeping food in the fridge and NOT having you eat it!!!”

Clown Clown’s face is red.

As it always is, because his face is painted red.

”I wasn’t trying to steal your food! I was… checking to see if the refrigerator was running!”

”Is it?”

”No, just light exercise.”

The refrigerator is on the floor doing sit-ups.

Every time it sits up, its light turns on.

”It’s a LIVING!” Says the Refrigerator.

”At least the refrigerator is working, that makes SOMEONE in this apartment!”

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Goes Audience Prompter Planet.

Ooooooooooooooooooh! Goes the Studio Audience Planet.



”You know I’m job hunting, right now!”

”How?!? You haven’t left the apartment in weeks!”

”I set all my job hunting traps inside the apartment!”

Clown Clown reaches over behind the couch and retrieves a line of bear traps and snares, each lined with a typed, double-spaced copy of his resume in a clean-looking Garamond font.

”Catch any jobs?”

Clown Clown scours his traps… He pulls out a bald man in a turtleneck and jeans.

”Darn… just Steve Jobs.”


”That’s right! It’s me, Steve Jobs! You all thought I died from a pancreatic tumor, when in fact, I simply travelled to live quietly at Clown City, where I could harvest Clowntanium, the funniest mineral, so that I could use it to build my greatest product yet… The iPhone Ligma.”

…Roommate Clown blinks.

”Who the hell is Steve Jobs?”

”LIGMA BALLS!” Steve Jobs declares defiantly as he forward rolls out of Clown Clown’s clutches and does a front flip out the window!

…

”...We’re on the Seventh Floor.”

…

”There’s no way he survived that, right?”

”There’s no way I’M gonna get your help on rent this month, right?”

Clown Clown presses a hand to his chest, aghast!

“I’m aghast!”

”I’m a ghost.” Says Ghost Clown, who is a clown wearing a sheet over his body, currently phasing through the wall.

”Hey, we’re in the middle of something here, you dead ghost clown!”

”Hey! That’s offensive! I’m not dead! I’m just currently strapped for life!” Ghost Clown reaches into his ghost pockets and turns them out. ”Look, man. Just gimme a little life and I’ll be back on my feet!”

”You don’t have any feet to get back on!”

Ghost Clown looks down. In fact, below his waist, he’s a shapeless incorporeal being.

”It’s ableist of you to notice I don’t have feet! Hmph!” Hmphs Ghost Clown!

Wham! A piece of paper sails through the air! It’s aimed at the Ghost Clown’s face…

…

Unfortunately, he’s incorporeal, so instead, it goes THROUGH Ghost Clown’s face and smacks into Clown Clown’s big blue nose.

”Ow! My big blue nose!”

HE SAID HIS CATCHPHRASE!

The denizens of Studio Audience Planet go absolutely insane.

The decibels are off the charts how loudly the studio audience is roaring with approval and jubilation, like their entire lives have been lived in anticipation for this, the culmination of this.

Some of the population of Studio Audience Planet don their “Ow! My big blue nose!” shirts.

The pregnant among the Studio Audience commit to naming their children “Ow! My big blue nose!”

Roses fly from the surface of Studio Audience Planet in such great frequency and mass that a ring of flora starts to orbit the planet of Clown City.

The warring factions of Studio Audience Planet agree to a ceasefire that they might hold each other for physical support as they fear their sides will split from the uninhibited hilarity of Clown Clown saying his catchphrase.

That moment, the lights dim and Sitcom Writer Clown enters from stage right. He’s handed a golden bust of Chandler Clown from the hit TV show, Friends Clowns, a show about clowns who are friends.


”This is Sitcom Writer Clown’s seventeenth award for Catchphrasiest Catchphrase and Fourteenth Award for Recipient of the Worst Named Award Award.”

Sitcom Writer Clown looks down at his award with pride.

”I’ve prepared a few words.”

He reaches into his coatpocket for a notecard, before nodding at it with pride.

”Matriculate. Adroit. Shenanigans.”

…

Sitcom Writer Clown folds his notecard back into his pocket, before walking off the stage.

…

”...So…” Clown Clown clears his throat, lifting the note that kicked off all that nonsense. ”Do I… do I still read this?”

Ghost Clown glances up from the newspaper he pulled out. The headline reads ‘Bit Goes On For Too Long’.

”Yeah, I guess.”

Clown Clown unfolds it.

”...Hey!” Clown Clown points at Ghost Clown! ”You’re getting evicted!”

”Evicted?!?”

”By God Clown! From the mortal realm! You apparently haven’t been paying your life dues!”

”How would I do that when I have no life?!?”

”I mean…” Clown Clown scratches his head, which naturally honks as his fingertips rub the top of his big red dome. ”You must have SOME life, right?”

”No!” Ghost Clown sweats flop ectoplasm, as he dabs at his ghostly forehead! ”I don’t have a mortal life! I don’t have a social life! I don’t even have the Board Game of Life!”

Ghost Clown reaches behind his back for a cardboard box…

”All I have is Parcheesi… Do you think God Clown would accept that as ‘life’?”

”Man, I think that sounds like a Trivial Pursuit.”

Roommate Clown reaches behind his back, retrieving the board game Trivial Pursuit before dropping it on the floor.

”You’re so insensitive, Roommate Clown! Get a Clue!”

Clown Clown reaches behind his back, retrieving the board game Clue before dropping it on the floor.

”Jeez, Sorry!”

Roommate Clown reaches behind his back, retrieving the board game Sorry!…

…

”I just bought this, I don’t want to drop it on the floor.”

Clown Clown re-skims the letter! ”Wait!” His eyes widen with realization!

(when they widen, they quietly honk)

”It says here you can appeal God Clown’s decision to evict you from the Mortal Realm! You just need to show that you have a means of earning a life!”

Ghost Clown scratches his head. ”Well… how do I do that?”

”Well, can you find a job that pays in life? What are you good at?”

”I’m really good at talking about trash, actually.”

”How often does that skill come in handy?”

”You’d be surprised.”

---

CUTAWAY

Ghost Clown is sitting at a desk in an office.

Suddenly, his phone rings.

He goes to pick it up.

His hand goes through the phone, because he’s a ghost.

…

”Hmm.”

Ghost Clown tries to grab it again.

No dice.

Eventually, the phone stops ringing.

…

---

…

”You know, I thought that cutaway was going to be about how talking about trash would come in handy.”

”I said you’d be surprised!”

…Clown Clown strokes his chin thoughtfully, before pointing at Ghost Clown.

”Hmm… so you need life so you aren’t sent to Clown Hell. (which is a purgatory)....”

Clown Clown points at himself.

”And *I* need a JOB so that my roommate gets off my back!”

Clown Clown turns around. Roommate Clown is riding on his back, much akin to Master Blaster from Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome.

”What can we do?”

”I’d say ‘kill ourselves’, but I tried that once.”

”...Jesus, that was a dark joke.”

Jesus nods from Studio Audience Planet, covering his eyes with his hands.

He can still see through them, though.

Ghost Clown shrugs, before turning the page of his newspaper. On the back is a Wanted Section!

In big, bold letters!

WANTED NEW XWF TELEVISION CHAMPION! SHOULD BE ENTERTAINING FUN TO WATCH BE WILLING TO GO LIVE CONSTANTLY MUST BE ABLE TO TALK TRASH!

”Oh! You’re… wait, what’s the word for when you’ve got an idea?”

”Eureka!”

In the closet, Miner Forty-niner Clown tosses away his pickaxe and reaches down into the floorboards!

”Gold!”

He retrieves an Idaho Gold potato! He bites it to make sure it’s real. He runs off!

…

”Anyway…” Clown Clown takes the newspaper out of Ghost Clown’s hands. ”This is it! A job! We can apply to be the new XWF Television Champion!”

Ghost Clown squints. His spectral form honks as he does. ”...Both of us? It’s just one job, though.”

”But you could possess me! It works perfectly! I’M full of life! And YOU can talk about trash!”

Roommate Clown snatches the newspaper from Clown Clown, he holds it up to his eyes, reading it carefully… before shaking his clowny noggin. ”Get real, you clowns! You’ve got competition for that job!”

Roommate Clown tosses the newspaper back at Ghost Clown.

It phases through him.

…He reaches down to pick it up.

His hand goes through it.

”...Weren’t you literally just reading that? Why can’t you pick it up now?” Clown Clown gasps… ”Wait! Are you losing your physical form because of God Clown’s eviction?”

”No, it’s just that I can only hold OR not hold things when it’s funny.”

”...Really?” Clown Clown scratches his head, reaching down to pick up the newspaper.

”Yeah, gimme your wallet, I’ll show you.”

Clown Clown reaches into his pocket and retrieves his wallet. He extends his hand over toward Ghost Clown, who takes it.

”Thanks.”

Ghost Clown pushes it into his ghostly pocket. It goes through and lands on the floor.

…

”Huh.” Clown Clown picks up the wallet off the ground, before checking the newspaper, double-checking the wanted ad. ”...Ohhhhhh, okay. We have to beat the person who currently has the job to take the job. A lady named… Garisha?”

”Gesundheit.”

”No, that’s her name.”

”I’m aware, but part of being a ghost means that I can see sneezes before they happen.”

”...Oh. Am I about to sneeze?”

”Not right now.”

”...Okay. So, we just matriculate for this match… win… and then we get the job of becoming XWF Television champion!”

”You two would have to be very adroit to pull that off! Garisha is supposed to be very, very tough!”

”You know about this Garisha lady, Roommate Clown!”

”Once upon a time… we were roommates!”

”Oh my God, they were roommates…” Gasps Outdated Vine Reference Clown, sitting in the stands of Studio Audience Planet.

---

FLASHBACK

Roommate Clown is standing in a completely different somewhat-too-large-for-a-realistic-apartment apartment soundstage with a feral lady, covered in her own excrement.

She shrieks at him in her inhuman tongue, flicking it wildly…

Doctor Clown, the clown who is a doctor, and Glen Clown, the clown who is a Glen, both try to rein her in with reins.

Unfortunately, the reins aren’t attached to anything so they are very ineffective at reining.

Roommate Clown raises his chair defensively as he raises his voice offensively! ”I said it’s YOUR turn to do dishes!”

A dish flies across the room, over his chair shield, smacking him in the face!

”OW!”

---

”Wow… so that was this Garisha lady?”

”No, that was my second-least favorite roommate, I ended up having to kick her out and then Garisha moved in.”

…

”She was fine.”

”So, if that feral banshee lady was your SECOND-least favorite roommate, who’s your least favorite roommate.”

…

Roommate Clown gestures his hand up and down toward Clown Clown.

”Oh come on!”

”Enough shenanigans, you clowns! So, we’re going to face this Garisha in an interview, beat her, and win the job?”

Clown Clown snaps his fingers (which honk when he snaps them).

”Bingo.”

”Bingo!” Calls out Bingo Number Calling Clown, checking Clown Clown’s board for Bingo!

Roommate Clown sighs, pinching his brow exasperatedly. ”Maybe I can get that Feral Lady Clown to move back in…”

---

And now… for some TALK by the TRASH

”Okay, so how do we do this?”

”What do you mean? YOU’RE the one who said you could talk trash!!!”

”I can! I’m asking about… like… how do we become one?”

”...Well. When Mommy Clown and Daddy Clown love each other very mu-”

”HOW DO I POSSESS YOU?”

”...Oh! Right.” Clown Clown scratches his head in deep thought… before it hits him!

WHAM!

A repossession notice!

”Oh man… I knew I should have learned what a car payment was…”

Ghost Clown picks up the repo notice. ”Oh! This will do nicely actually…”

Ghost Clown takes a ghostly pen from his pocket…

And scratches out the ‘R’ and the ‘e’.

Now it says ‘Possession Notice’.

”Here you are.” Ghost Clown hands the notice over to Clown Clown.

”Ah, thank you very m-”

WHAM! Ghost Clown suddenly zips through the air and straight down Clown Clown’s gullet!

Clown Clown vibrates and shakes and changes colors and lights up…

His flannel shirt is replaced with…

A Pinstripe suit! A rainbow colored tie!

He looks ready for his late night debut!

It’s…

TELEVISION CLOWN

APPLAUD YOUR NEW CHAMPION

Blares the audience prompter, which is resting on Audience Prompter Planet.

A microphone on its stand dances across the stage with a flourish!

Television Clown dips the mic stand like a flamenco dancer, before raising the mic to his lips!

”Folks, don’t adjust your monitors, this is not an error! Nor is this a test! We’re LIVE!” Television Clown adjusts his tie with a smile. ”Finally… FINALLY… a real Clown challenger is set to actually entertain the sad gray world of the XWF!”

”I know it’s been a while since we’ve had a Television champion who was actually FUN TO WATCH! What a concept, huh?”

“Korvayne seems entertaining, but she Conan O’Brien’d herself into giving Bobby ‘Jay Leno’ Bourbon her job on the TV screen…”

“And Bobby’s idea of entertainment is morose slam poetry in the X-Treme hallway when anyone else commits the cardinal sin of ‘actually trying’!”

”Meanwhile, Remi Storm’s idea of fun is hanging out at funerals where people she briefly knew died… And looking mildly annoyed when her stablemates in the ART Foundation have personalities.”

“And, somehow… SOMEHOW… Garisha is a downgrade from all of that hot, reeking garbage that came before her! YEESH!” Television Clown rolls his eyes so hard, they whip around his head like marbles.

”This wolf lady is all bark and no kibble! She talks like Boris and Natasha fucked a caveman.”

Quote:“This not gift.” She shook her head. “Nobody give Garisha this.”

”Nobody GAVE Garisha the Television title. Just like no one ever GAVE Garisha a second grade education or a bar of soap, but that doesn’t mean she should get both after I strip that belt out of her hands!”

”Sorry, Grish, but does anyone actually WANT to watch you on their television? Sure, you’re a big tough lady, but you’re so… muted. Dull. You’re like if Wonder Woman was voiced by Ben Stein!”

“Your face barely moves, you talk like you’re trying to get a sponsorship deal with Melatonin for putting people to sleep… and you don’t even have a finishing move! How the hell is the audience supposed to know when to cheer if you don’t have a big clear sign that the match is about to be over?”

“Your name is Garisha, baby! Go GARISH or go home to… Wherever Judd keeps your doghouse? West Virginia? Utah? I don’t know, I think you’re from wherever they shot the movie Deliverance?”

“YA GOTTA GO BIG, Rish-rish! COLORFUL! OBSCENE! LIKE IF A JACKSON POLLACK PAINTING VOMITED SOUR SKITTLES INTO THE MOUTH OF MICHAEL BAY HIMSELF!”

“THIS IS SHOW BUSINESS! AND IF YOU CAN’T MAKE A SHOW OF IT, YA AIN’T GOT ANY BUSINESS BEING HERE!!!”

“You’re TV ratings poison, Grish! Which, when this belt is about BEING ON TELEVISION, that’s a no-go on a pogo, kenshin-a-go-go!”

Television Clown starts jumping on the mic stand like it’s a pogo stick! He bounces once!

Twice!

He does a sick pogo-stick ollie, before frisbeeing it into the crowd!

“Seriously, Fido, I get you’re a wolf lady, but why don’t you either fetch an interesting gimmick or just roll over? Because the crowd is begging for a treat on their screens! And that treat is me!”

Quote:“Garisha lose everything already. What you take now? Title?” She held it closer to her chest.

“Take.” A daring look surfaced. “Try.”

”Okay.”

Television Clown spits on one hand.

Then the other.

He rubs them together.

He reaches off-screen….

…

PLUNK!

He’s got the belt that was just on the prerecorded Garisha’s shoulder!


”Huh. Guess you were right, Grish. You DO lose everything.”

Television Clown smiles as he adjusts the belt over his shoulder. As he wields it, just from touching him, it suddenly shifts from the red XWF belt to a technicolor rainbow splendor…

A vibrant vision of a vivid, variegated volcano, practically spewing neon so boldly it might make your eyes bleed to look at it too long…

Wait, no, for real, your eyes just started bleeding.

Quote:“For Garisha, title not important…. What title mean is important…. It mean nobody take from Garisha… Not Remi… Not anybody.”

”Haha, see… That’s exactly what I need to hear, Grish.”

“That this is important to you.”

“That you can’t afford to lose this match.”

“That you’ll lose everything if you lose tonight.”

“Know why?”

Television Clown leans toward the camera and winks.

”Because Clowns only win when winning is funny.”

“We beat Kieran King’s army when the world still thought he was unbeatable.”

“We beat Jordan Penn and Charlie Nickles when BoB was running all of Warfare.”

“All we clowns do is gags… Until the gag is too obvious, and then we do the funny thing and WIN.”

“So, go ahead, Grish. Bring your whole posse!”

“Bring Malach-I! Malach-J! Dr. J!”

“Bring Dr. Glen, Dr. Oz, Dr. House, Dr. Doogie Howser, Dr. Who…?”

“Bring every little sidekick and mouthpiece you have to bring so the ring looks more occupied, since you don’t have the personality to actually star a show without a twenty-eight-piece supporting cast.”

“Bring em all! Hell, save a seat in the front row for Judd Hollow, himself.”

“I work best with a capacity crowd, baby.”

“Think you can break me? Don’t make me laugh.”

“I’m the goddamned Television Clown.”

“And I’m about to make ratings history when I shock the world!”

“Get in the ring with Garisha…”

“And make HER the one that looks like a joke.”

“Ha.”

“HA.”

“Ha."