Halloween arrives quickly; in preparation for the party tonight you and your co-workers get off early. You head for the Life-Changing Costume Shop, to pick up your costume and be made up as a clown.
You step inside and find Crimson Titan waiting for you. "Ah, right on time," he smiles. "You are very punctual, Wally." You nod at the compliment and follow Crimson Titan behind the counter to a small room.
Inside, it looks almost like the inside of a barber shop-save that the chair has what looks like a foot bath. Next to the chair, you see the clown outfit out of it's packaging, laying down, ready to be put on.
"There's a small dressing room to the side." Crimson Titan points to another door. "Get changed there-oh and take off your shoes and socks."
You take the outfit and go into the dressing room. The suits a little baggy on your body, but that's okay; clown suits generally are baggy. You walk out barefoot, and sit in the chair, putting your bare feet into the empty foot bath.
Crimson Titan fills the foot bath with water and adds what look like bath salts. He flips a switch, and the bath starts bubbling. "The foot bath adds to the experience," he says casually as he pulls out a wheeled platform with various makeup brushes, sponges, and greasepaint tubes.
"First we apply the white," he says as he dips a sponge into white greasepaint, which he applies over your eyes, and mouth. Next, he takes another sponge and wipes at the greasepaint. "Now to set it." Crimson Titan pats at your face with a powder puff, then brushes away the powder with a brush. "Then we add the red," he says while he dips another sponge into greasepaint and spreads it over your nose and cheeks. Powder, then brush. "After that the black." Powder, then brush. With each application of greasepaint, powder, and brushing, the sillier you feel and the more you like feeling silly. "And finally, the orange," which he spreads over the rest of your face.
After the final brushing, Crimson Titan holds up a hand mirror. Around your eyes are white patches that stretch up to your forehead, topped by wide black arches that give your face a surprised look. Your eyes are thickly outlined in black with vertical black bars above them, making them look like exclamation marks. From your upper lip down to your chin a white muzzle stretches nearly to your cheeks, which are covered in red blush that also fills in the gaps between your eyepatches and your mouth. Your lips are painted black and form a black smile that make your mouth look open all the time. And the very end of your nose is painted the same red as your cheeks. And the rest of your face is bright orange.
You smile at how silly you look.
"We're not done yet," Crimson Titans says. He pick up a small boxlike device and places over the painted end of your nose. "This is a nosegrapher," he explains as he places it over your nose and flips a switch The device starts to hum, and you feel a tingling sensation at the end nose-and your feet in the bath as well.
After a minute a loud DING! sounds. Crimson Titan take of the nosegrapher, and you're suddenly aware of a touch of red at the bottom of your field of vision. Crimson Titan give your nose a squeeze and a loud HONK! sounds out.
You feel the end of your nose yourself. It's a perfect sphere, round, rubbery, and a little smaller than a tennis ball. You give it a couple of squeezes yourself. HONK! HONK!
Next, Crimson Titan pick up a hairbrush and what looks like a can of hairspray. "And finally, your hair." Deftly, he applies the brush and spray, which oddly enough smells like bubblegum. You feel the hair around your ears growing thicker and curlier, strangely the top of your head feels rather light and cool.
Crimson Titan swivel your chair to face the mirror behind you. Your makeup is dominated by your bulbous red clown nose; the hair around your head is cherry red and curly, but the very top is bare.
You look at your feet which you just took out of the foot bath. They are now a size 24, with toes as wide as a canoe paddle.
You wiggle the toes of your new clown feet. You feel the top of your smooth bald clown head. And you give your bulbous clown nose another squeeze. HONK!
"I never felt better in my life," you say to Crimson Titan; your voice is now a couple of octaves lower with a very goofy lilt.
"Very good." Crimson Titan helps you put a pair of purple socks on your feet, then puts your new feet into a pair of clown shoes with purple toes and heels and saddle matching the blue and red checkered pattern of your pants. As a final touch, he wipe your pate with a moist towelette, then places a tiny red purple derby with a checkered band on your head at a jaunty angle.
You step up from the chair, and waddle over to a full-length mirror, and look at your reflection.
You look like a clown.
You gesture like a clown.
You ARE a clown. And you don't want to be anything else.
You give your reflection a final nod of approval, then thank Crimson Titan. After Honking your nose goodbye, you waddle out of the store and to your office party.