There were moments, early on in the pandemic called the Bozo Virus, that were actually quite funny.
One day your child could barely run around the yard without tripping, and then next moment, she would suddenly be able to juggle. Balls, pails, puppies, all in kept in motion by her hands, while she kept up some patter way beyond her years — it was hilarious!
Then the white face might start the next morning. It would be worrying, especially the red, frizzy hair. But she seemed happy. Perhaps TOO happy.
Sometimes, the Bozo Virus would work itself into the neocortex, firing along the pathways that govern aggression.
And then those moments of hilarity would turn into pure terror.
Read the other parts of Clown Apocalypse: Clown Apocalypse | The Day the Laughter Died | Moments of Hilarity | Beach Happies | The European Atrocity | The Sexy Cataclysm | Buffoonibilism | The Clownsickle