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Historically, it’s a creepy holiday.
I’m having crepes.
For that special gift, left at the door step on a silent night,
possibly packed in ice.
If I had it to do all over again it would probably turn out the same.
In my defense, I was grilling chicken legs when I drew this.
Chicken a la Pagliacci!
It’s a spell one only casts with great reluctance
for the results do not amuse.
Unless you like giant clowns terrorizing the countryside.
Which really doesn’t sound all that bad.
It might unite us as a people.
Please translate into all languages
So I now offer survival tips…
Sometimes, in the dead of night, a green mist might escape from your open closet door indicating a sizeable rift into the clowniverse.
Do not dangle your limbs from the bed.
Once my daughter had moved on from her fear of the volcano to a fear of the clown, that’s when I sat her down and told her all about clowncanoes.
Maybe she’ll grow up to be a tephrochronological clowncanologist.