Damon feels a weird, bizarre sensation coursing through his body, like his stomach feels bloated and a strange tingling in his face and his feet. “What-what’s happening to me?” he wails, in a deep, goofy sounding voice.
With a smirk the ringmaster pulls out a full-length mirror from out of nowhere. “Have a look.”
Unable to move, Damon watches as his reflection shows him gaining at least sixty pounds, causing the waistband of his jeans to burst, unable to hold his massive beer gut. His sneakers explode as his feet lengthen to a size nineteen while his toes become as wide as a snow-shovel.
On Damon’s plump face, white form around his eyes and mouth as the rest of the young man’s complexion becomes a dull ruddy orange. Thick black lines top the ovals around Damon’s eyes which stretch to his forehead, giving him a surprised look. Damon’s mouth forms down into a mournful frown and turn black, making his mouth look like it is always open. Black forms around his muzzle and on his neck, giving Damon a painted black 'beard.'
Then a more dramatic change happens. Damon’s nose turns a coal black and balloons to a sphere the size of a plum. To Damon’s horror despite his young age all the hair on top retreats into his scalp, leaving his head bare and smooth as an egg.
Now the remains of Damons clothes morph and reshape to fit his new body. The ruined jeans turned black become wide and baggy enough to hang loosely even around his fat waist and covered here and there with dull red and orange patches. The legs become a quarter too short, enough to show his now black and white and white checkered socks. Daman’s shirt likewise reshapes into a white turtleneck with horizontal dull red stripes with a tattered an patched vest that match his pants. His ruined sneakers become pancake-toed black and white clown shoes. As a final touch, black fingerless gloves appear on his hands and a tiny black derby appears on his bald dome.
Finally able to move, Damon feels his nose. It’s not a rubber or plastic ball, it’s his actual nose. He gives it a pull. HONK! Damon feels the top of his head; his fingers touch bare, smooth skin. ‘Oh no,’ he thinks in horror, ‘I’m bald!’
He really is a clown. A fat, bald hobo clown.
“Change me back!” he cries in that deep, gloomy yet goofy voice he now has.
“No can do,” the ringmaster replies. “The change is irreversible. And besides-.” and now Damon feels his mind go hazy....