“Do you think just because I’m a clown I’m some object of ridicule for you to make fun of? To mock? To jeer?” Whoopsie yelled at her nephew.
“A little,” Jesse shrugged.
“Well I guess that’s all there is to it then,” she grinned mischievously, even for a clown. She grabbed Jesse by the sides of his face and planted a big, wet kiss on his face, and as she did so she released a fart louder then a circus marching band and longer than a line at a circus bathroom. And as her fart blasted into the ether, Jesse was sure he felt a pressure building inside of him, a big uncomfortable pressure. Whoopsie broke the kiss and winked at her nephew, “See you in the morning.” She pushed him out of her room laughing menacingly as she did, “Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk, hyuk, hyuk!” Jesse let out a little fart of his own and headed to his bedroom to strip out of his aunt’s clothes, wondering what had just happened.
In the morning Whoopsie was scrambling her eggs when she heard the scream. Jesse rushed downstairs to find him aunt at the stove dressed in a vinyl clown suit that was striped like a beach ball, with her lavender striped thigh high socks, her inflated gloved, and her trade mark oversized, red, bubble-toed mary janes shoes. But the biggest thing she wore was the shit-eating grin underneath her golf ball sized red nose. “What’s up hon?” she guffawed.
“Why is my skin so pale? Why is it so, so, so…!” Jesse stammered.
“White?” Whoopsie’s eyes lit up, “Almost CLOWN white?”
“Yes!”
“Let me ask you some questions,” Whoopsie smiled as she began to eat her eggs. “When was the last time you saw me put on make up? Or change wigs? Or without my shoes on? And did you think this amazing flatulence was normal for a woman my age? Or any woman for that matter?”
“What are you talking about? You caught me wearing your make up and one of your wigs last night!”
“My OLD make up and my OLD wig!” Whoopsie’s clown smile seemed to grow larger. “Did you see any newer make up or wigs that weren’t packed away?”
“No.”
“And why do you think that is?” Whoopsie said with a hint of menace.
“No,” Jesse shook his head in disbelief.
“Yes!” Whoopsie shook her head in an exaggerated manner.
“No!”
“Yes!”
“NO!”
Whooopsie slipped off one clown shoe revealing a huge foot inside. Jesse’s eyes grew as big as saucer dishes and he almost burst into tears when she licked the thumb of her glove and rubbed her make up with it, revealing that her make up wasn’t smudged or rubbed off in the slightest. “YES!”
“So I’m turning into a clown?” Jesse said slumping to the floor. “But how?”
“Magic,” she told him nonchalantly, “Every female clown in this town has been affected by the magic, making them all grow fatter with clown features. Oh and really raunchy flatulence.” She leaned to the side and ripped a juicy fart.
FFFRRRRPPPPTTTT!
“Can’t forget that clown flatulence. Don’t worry you’ll love to be all farty! We all do!”
“I can’t believe you did this to me!” Jesse yelled at her.
“And I can’t believe you would steal into my bedroom and dress as me in order to make fun of me!” Whoopsie yelled back. “I took you in! I’m all you have! You needed me! And I did what any loving Aunt would!”
“Turn my into a female clown?” Jesse said ruefully.
“Well now you really need me,” Whoopsie flicked some eggs in his face. “Now get up and learn how to be a flatulent clown like a man would!” Whoopsie told him contemptuously, all the fun and humor she normally had was gone for the moment. Whoopsie stood up and composed herself. She took a deep breath and her normal happy face returned. She beckoned for Jesse to follow her and walked towards her room leaving a cloud of farts for him to follow.
FRT! FRT! FRT! FRT! FRT!
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