This is the point in the story where trouble comes into paradise. There's an item in the True North Festival program I'm struggling with. It's called Finding Your Clown.  
Like many others of my generation, I was subjected to the cinematic trauma machine of Stephen King's "It" at a vital stage in my cognitive development. In my case it was due to an aberration of supervisory dynamics, being that my parents went out for the night, and shortly thereafter my older sibling said "Watch this video. It'll fuck you up." Amazingly enough, he was right.
He also introduced me to Alien and Predator.
So this week while I was innocently scrolling through the True North program I read the words "Ever thought there might be a clown hiding inside you?" and next thing I knew I was on my back, clawing at my belly screaming "Yes!!! Get it out! Get it out of me!!!"
Don't get me wrong - I'm all for family programming, and if just one Rezza kid finds their "clown walk" next weekend it will be a win for every geezer who ever struggled to find his way home from Zagame's on a Sunday morning. But so help me, if any one of those creepy little proteges sneaks up on me and honks its red nose in my general direction during the festival I won't be held accountable for my actions.

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