Tiffany waddled into 1st period Government class feeling giddy with excitement. She normally considered it to be the most boring and dull class in a whole curriculum of boring and dull classes but today she was certain it would be different. How could anything be dull when everyone on Earth was turned into a clown?
After waddling to her desk, Tiffany smiled at the clowngirl sitting next to her and honked her nose. "Hi Molly!"
Molly smiled back. She was Tiffany's oldest and best friend apart from her sisters and had been since the 3rd grmade. Now she had been transformed into a female hobo and like most hobo girls had a black 'beard' surroumd a whote muzzle on her mouth and white patches around her eyes that contrasted sharply with her sugar-pink complexion. Molly's clown nose was as big and round as Tiffany's own, but unlilw most was coal black instead of red and when she squeezed it in reply it sounded more like a foghorn than the usual honk.
Molly was dressed in typical hobo style of black vest pants covered here and there with brightly colored patches and a horizontal red-striped shirt-dress. On her feet were socks stoped like her shirt and size seventeen black shoes with white saddles.
Inside Molly's muzzle her lips were bright red like ordinary lipstick. Her eyes were heavily outlined in black with really long and thick eyelashes and her cheeks above her 'bear's were soft red with black freckles; combinwd with her bog black nose it gave Molly an almost Minnie Mouse like appearance.
Her voice reminded Tiffany of Minnie Mouse as well. "Guess what, Tiff?" she answered back. "I got a new hairdo yesterday."
"Really?" Tiffany was puzzled; Molly's hair still looked the same shoulder length chestnut as before, permed into thick curls beneath the black floppy hat she was wearing; it seemed the most unchanged thing about her.
Molly giggled and removed her hat; for the first time since she woke up this morning to find herself and the rest of the world clowned, Tiffany was completely speechless.
LeAnn, another of Tiffany's friends who was sitting behind Molly and was now an auguste clown, exclaimed for Tiffany and the others, "You're bald!"
Molly nodded as she ran a hand over her smooth pink scalp. "I was gonna lose it anyway; two months ago I noticed my hairline receding. So I saved up my allowance, went to the beauty parlor-," as Molly spoke she slid both her hands over her pate, "and got a 'dome chic!'"
Molly let Tiffany, LeAnn, and the other clowns sitting near her feel her bald head; it felt as smooth and slick as a baby's behind. For the most part Tiffany loved being a clown and living in a world full of clowns; now she felt as weirded out as Olivia.
Before she could think further, calliope music played over the intercom meaning class had begun-and on a ridiculously tiny bicycle rode Mr. Stromberg, the class's teacher.
Riding over to his desk, Mr. Stromberg got off the bicycle and placed it in his pocket. Looking around, Tiffany could see he was still tall and barrel chested only now he looked like a clowned version of the stereotypical teacher or professor-whiteface with thick frizzy blue hair around a bald head, round glasses behind a big red nose, high arched eyebrows that gave him an inquisitive look, tweed jacket with bright patches at the elbows and blue flower at the lapel, baggy checkered pants and the biggest feet on any clown Tiffany had seen so far-and Tiffany had seen some pretty big feet since this morning.
Mr. Stromberg's red smile stretched wider as he looked out at his students. "You all ready for today's lecture?" he asked as he honked hos nose.
The students all honked their own noses, Tiffany included. She was glad there wasn't an unexpected test or quiz; one wasn't scheduled but after a morning full of surprises who could tell hat to expect?
Mr Stromberg began his lecture, talking about how local city government worked, a the roles various types of clowns played. Some times while speaking his bow tie would spin or his pants would fall down, showing his baggy polka dot boxer shorts. These antics certainly drew his students' attention, anf Tiffany actually found herself paying closer attention than she normally did.
Two thirds of the way through the class, Mr. Stromberg started asking questions. Instead of raising hands students honked their noses and the teacher was somehow able to recognize each student by the sound of their nose. He's waddle over to them and hear their answers; if the answer was wrong He's squirt them with water from his lapel flower-or produce a pie made of foamy soap and hit them in the face with it. More than she normally would, Tiffany honked her nose to answer-and plenty of times got sprayed and thrice got pied. Yet she didn't care; never had school been so much fun!