The Brown Clown Let Me Down

I was having a word with the Brown Clown in my office:

"Small children shit their pants at the mere sight of you! You wear drab, boring clothing, and your shoes are fucking penny loafers! WITH NO FUCKING PENNIES IN THEM!"

The Brown Clown stood there and, unaffected by my outburst, said quietly, "Well, I wouldn't be the Brown Clown if I wore all those gay colors other clowns do, now would I?"

I conceded his point and let him keep his job, but boy was I fuming mad.

I went down to the Refectoire for some Asprin and a Coke. While I stood on line to be served My Grouchy Friend ambled up. That bastard. He's a bit green in the face - more so then usual. My Grouchy Friend eats compulsively but gains no weight. It's not that he has a super metabolism, but working in the clown business has caused him to lose his respect for Necco Racial Wafers. It's a respect I still have and most of my employees share with me, but My Grouchy Friend - vice president of marketing, no less - eats nothing but Racial Wafers and drinks water regularly.

Back upstairs I began thinking about the Brown Clown. He had said something earlier that was quite striking to me: "A clown ain't a clown without being brown." I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about, but certainly he was onto something. Hastily, I gathered my wits together and hauled ass down to the mail room.

"Any mail for me?"

"Sir, we deliver your mail to you in your office each morning. You really don't have to take your time to come down here every day."

Shit, I had forgotten again. About two hundred workdays in a year and I try to pick up my mail like a calendar picks up...

Shit, never mind.

"Well, Carry On then! I just .. ahem .. had to come down and make sure the .. ahhh .. mail processesing .. thing .. we bought last year is still .. functional."

"Oh, yes sir! Yes it is! And we thank you so much for having provided it to us!" Replied the attendant who was practically decomposing with pride.

I have no idea what the fuck I bought last year, but I remember it was Important and Expensive, and it seems to be a good excuse for going down to the mailroom 200 times a year.