"I want to be a clown," you say.
Tonya looks squarel at you. "A what?"
"A clown," you repeat. "And I don't just want to look like one either. I want a silly voice, big feet that really fill up those shoes, a silly colorful hairdo, and-wait, you do offer that don't you?"
"Yes, of course we do," Tonya replies. She taps several keys on her computer, then looks back at you. "And what kind of clown do you want to be?"