This is an image of a sad clown. I've used it because my post is about a heartbroken clown forced into self-deprecating work because of fate.

My job’s to make you laugh, to give you joy and to coat your hearts with effervescence, and that I’ll do as long as I’m standing on this stage. I lost my second wife a month ago, and since then I’ve spiraled into alcoholism. But I guess it’s better than shooting crap into my arm. I’ve lost my day job selling popcorn at the fair, and I’m struggling to foot the bills, to get by. But enough self-loathing. I’m here to make you laugh, to help take your minds off the stress of actuality.

You come here – every Friday night – after paying the cheap five-dollar entrance because you long for entertainment. You crave for more than sleazy motel room sex with hookers. You want me to make you laugh and then satiate your vulgar appetites. But all I have…okay enough of that!

You’re here now, and it’s time to make you laugh. I’ve worn the green nose and the green lipstick because that’s what Mr. Green favors. He won the auction this week, and I was mad when the owner said, “It’s green today Binky.” I mean, green! Fuck man! You’re one egotistical prick, aren’t you? Even after all these years of snorting Big C, some shred of malicious ego makes you want to humiliate me. Do I have to yell, “Green!” too while you proceed with whatever the fuck you plan on doing with me tonight. Then again, you’re entitled to your fetishes, and I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for this. So, I’m sorry sir. Please take no offense. And please don’t report me. This is all I have left!

I wish my wife, Molly the mime could pull me out of this rut I’m in. But she’s in heaven now, finally speaking, saying, “You’ll get through this Binky! Hang in there!” If only I could have prevented the accident, but we’re a circus, and we take risks. But still, I wish I was powerful and in command. I would have saved her then.

My job is to make you laugh, but I don’t have it in me. I’m exhausted and riddled with the most painful grief. So, let’s skip this showy sick display and get on with it. Snort your coke off my nose until your mustache turns white and proceed with all the nasty shit you want to do. I’m all yours. Haha. Haha. Molly! Oh, Molly!

Part 1

Part 2

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2019)

6 Replies to “Binky the Clown (Part 3)”

    1. Binky doesn’t sugar coat anything. His nose is the only thing that gets sugarcoated. Thank you Bruce! I’m wondering how to progress with this series. I’ve written another (now deleted) in which Binky becomes a deranged clown. But I’m not very keen on taking that approach again.

      1. Or to give him the classic Bruce ending and just finish him off! Helicopter blades? Meat grinder? Or good old fashioned head shot?

      2. Ohhhh please don’t kill of Binky. He’s such a mess – and instils in the reader all sorts of conflicting emotions all at once. I get the feeling that even if you put him through a meat grinder he would come out as spicy and tempting meatballs or something.

      3. I was planning on having the Lion eat him up! But I’m rethinking things. You’re right. I can’t kill him off. I’ve invested too much effort in creating that clown! Thanks Bruce!

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