The driver section of the limo is cut off by a sliding two-way mirror; the chauffer can see you put you can’t see her. You don’t mind; just sitting back in this limousine is the greatest luxury you’ve ever known.
After a few minutes you hear her through the limo’s intercom. “Oh goodie, he he ya ha, I’m my usual silly self.” A loud HONK! like a bicycle horn. “I guess it’s time to tell you our town’s little secret, he he ya ha.” Honk!
The two-way mirror slides down, and she adjusts the rear view so you can get a good look at her face. Your jaw drops in astonishment.
Your chauffer’s face now had a pink complexion with patches of white around her eyes and mouth. Inside, her eyelids are shaded blue and she has long and curly eyelashes while in her muzzle is a blue-black cupid’s bow smile. Bright red surrounds her muzzle while here eye-patches are topped with wide black arches that stretch up to her forehead. Her hair underneath the chauffer’s cap which had been blond is now a blue mass of curls.
And at the very center of her face, her nose is a perfect sphere, nearly the size of a tennis ball and red and shiny as a Christmas tree ornament.
“How-“you stammer, “how did you manage to put on that make-up while you were driving?”
“He he ya ha,” she giggles, “I’m not wearing make-up. We’ve just arrived in Clowenstadt, * he he ya ha have a look around.” She squeezes her nose twice. Honk! Honk!
You glance outside. The town you are driving through looks like a strange parody of urban America. The buildings are brightly colored and done up in a way they almost resemble circus tenets. And out on the streets, all of the men, women and children-are clowns. You see them interact on the streets with exaggerated hand gestures, slapping faces, honking both their own and each other’s noses, even shooting silly string at each other. All the cars on the street besides your limo are either tiny Volkswagon Beetles or done up to look really colorful, with clown faces on the front. Instead of normal bicycles, on the street you see clowns riding oversized tricycles, unicycles, and little, tiny bicycles.
“Clowenstadt was founded at the beginning of the twentieth century, he he ya ha, by a group of retired clowns from a German circus.” Your chauffer honks her nose again. “They had the idea of setting up a society based around clowning; he he ya ha.” Honk! “Only one of the clowns was also secretly a witch, he he ya ha, and she decided the only way that ides would work was if the townsfolk actually WERE clowns.” Honk! “So she cast this spell that made the townsfolk look like the clowns they had portrayed in the circus, he he ya ha, and behave so on impulse.” Honk! “And caused their children to be born as clowns.” Honk! Honk!
“But-you weren’t a clown when you picked me up at the airport,” you say.
“Right. Because if we leave town, he he ya ha, we become normal humans, he he ya ha, and change back when they return.” Honk!
“Could you please not do that,” you say. “And the giggling please, it’s unnerving.”
“Sorry, he he ya ha, no can do.” The chauffer honks her nose again, as if to emphasize her point. “It’s natural impulse; he he ya ha, trying not to causes me stress. It’s also stressful if we leave town and be ‘normal’ for too long, he he ya ha, that’s why almost nobody moves away.” Honk! “I can do it longer than most, he he ya ha, that’s why I’m the one to bring in new resident.” Honk!
Something slowly dawns on you. “What happens to someone who moves in? Do they-?” Suddenly you are aware of touch of red at the bottom of your field of vision. Your shoes feel tight, too.
HONK! HONK! HONK! “You guessed it!” She honks her nose again. "Your job and personality help determine what kind of clown you become." Honk!
The two-way mirror slides back into place and you gasp as you see the big red bulbous nose on your face. “Have a look at the soon to be new you!”
HONK! HONK!
*German for Clown Town