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Clown City Wasn't Built in a Day - Printable Version +- X-treme Wrestling Federation (https://xwf1999.com) +-- Forum: Warfare Boards (https://xwf1999.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=6) +--- Forum: Warfare RP Board (https://xwf1999.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=12) +--- Thread: Clown City Wasn't Built in a Day (/showthread.php?tid=50416) |
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Clown City Wasn't Built in a Day - Schadenfreude Clown - 08-29-2026 The Empty Vacuum of Space 600,000,000,000 Years Ago AKA 19XX, on a Tuesday Clowns have always asked the age old question. “What came first, the Clown or the egg?” Today, we’re going to answer that question. I’m Neil deGrasse Tyson, and Lindsay if you’re watching, please let me see our children. At the dawn of time, according to Clown City (which is a planet)’s top scientists (who are actually dentists), the universe was in a state of high density matter, all gathered together very tightly… Almost like… ![]() …Sure, yes, a pie floating in space. And then that pie contacted with the face of God. And that is what we call the Big Honk. God walks past a pie sitting on a kitchen table. “Now, where on Earth did I leave that rake… I can’t have my pie until I’ve raked consciousness itself…” Just behind God, the handle of the rake sits… the head of the rake rests under the pie. “Ugh.” God sighs. “I really need to get around to making the known universe, but it’s third on my to-do list after (1) rake and (2) eat pie. Maybe the rake is behind m-” God turns around, steps on the rake, which flings the pie into God’s own face. FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!
The bits of crust exploding off God’s cheeks form the Asteroid Belt.A bit of fruit filling congeals together in an arc to create the rings of Saturn. And hilariously, the universe was created from a slapstick bit with a pie and rake. God wipes the pie off his face… Jesus walks in. “...I didn’t…” God stammers, his face covered in pie and universe. “Look! I meant to do all this, alright?!? I meant to create the universe! It was NOT a pie-based accident.” Jesus rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, Dad, who is also me. I won’t tell anybody.” …Jesus turns around and walks back out. …God pulls out his planner from his fanny-pack and a little ball-point pen from his pocket protector. “Step 1… Write a book about how the universe was made with snakes and gardens so no one finds out what really happened….” “Step 2…” God’s eyes narrow nefariously. “Kill Jesus.” None of that is what this story is about, though. Ignore that we proved the existence of God and also separately proved that he regrets creating life. We begin our REAL voyage in the cold reaches of space, after the Big Honk that ignited the universe into a confetti of animated stars that wink at you and diners with a 1950s aesthetic spawned from rogue asteroids. As we go into The Clown Galaxy, which is a Solar System, to an egg floating in space. *there’s a beat and the ruffling of a script as Neil deGrasse Tyson turns from the mic* An egg? So the egg came first clearly, we’ve already answered the damn question. *there’s a click and Producer Clown speaks into the recording booth* “Yeah, but who put the egg there!?” Well clearly it was formed like a planet, a bunch of elements pushed together by gravity. Basic shit. “Keep reading ya dolt! Explain what happens next with your amateur science!” *Tyson sighs as he flicks the paper and continues to read* A cartoon hand pokes out from the egg and unzips itself to remove the shell and a world with big cartoon eyes and a smile emerges… Huh… But is the world a clown?” “Is the- What!? Of course the world is a clown! What are you? Some kind of schmuck!?” Well it wasn’t clear in the text! “It’s called Clown City, pal! What kinda Clown City would it be if the planet wasn’t a giant animated clown!?” … None of this makes any sense! “No shit! Just keep reading!” *audible sigh* … And so, Clown City, which is a planet, was formed. And along with it came a plethora of other moons and planets, entering the system like parasites latching onto the joke. Title Planet, which is a city. The moon where all the mimes live. And who could forget Pastamania Planet, the planet where everyone is Italian. Some Clown Scientists say whenever a bit is born in the mind of a clown, it pops into existence if it's funny enough or has the potential to be an ongoing joke. You mean a running gag?
Marathon Running Clown is running a marathon. He runs across the finish line tape. …Wait, no, doesn’t make it across He gets stuck in the finish line tape, rolls himself into a finish line mummy, falls into a sarcophagus, is shipped to Egypt to be examined by Egyptologist Clown. Egyptologist Clown sighs, with a shrug. “It’s a living.” See, that was a running gag. Bits are the lifeblood of the clowns. So long as there are clowns, there are bits. An infinite number of bits, very few of which actually work. A lot like probability theory, which is the theory that the universe is so infinite and massive that the probability of anything happening could never be exactly zero. And if that’s true, Lindsay, please, take another chance on me, look me in the eyes one last time and see we have a future together. … *cough* Anyway! We know how the planet was formed but what of its wonderful inhabitants? How did the clowns colonise this celestial cranium? Some say Clowns sprouted out of cabbages from the soil, like Cabbage Patch Kids, but others strongly dispute this theory, such as the Cult of the Garbage Pail Kids whose strong leadership has attracted the likes of Tom Cruise to join their ever growing society. One Clown says Clowns came from another planet, carried on solar winds like spores and infested Clown City. But many smart Clowns agree that life began like it did on many other planets. In the ocean. *the cameraman in space runs down a high dive board and leaps off hurtling towards Clown City who screams in terror as he splashes into the ocean and swims down to the microbes feeding on Clown City’s sweet, sweet primordial soup. “OOOOOOOOOOOO-WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!” One Clown Amoeba hollers as he brings the spoon to its mouth, “This soup is so dang good, it makes me wanna go through mitosis at an alarming rate!” One Clown Amoeba rings a bell. “Garçon! Could I get some more?” The Old Man From Oliver Twist Clown looks disgusted at the request. “MOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE?!?” One Clown Amoeba is punted from the primordial soup kitchen. Microbes at the bottom of the ocean replicate at an alarming rate, forming the building blocks of Clown DNA which is of course as we all know in the classic twisty shape of DNA but made out of balloons! After millions of years they evolve into weird and fucked-up creatures, like Clownfish, Clowntopusses, and the horrifying Angler Clown. A Clown in a yellow raincoat sits on the ocean floor with a fishing rod, he reels the rod back and casts out his line which keeps drifting upwards to his despair. “Man, what am I doing wrong here?” He doesn’t say, because if he did say it he’d drown. Anyway! Once the oceans brimmed with life, some creative fish took to the land to seek more food, getting rid of their gills in the process to be air breathing creatures. What caused this migration of aquatic clown life to the surface? Clown City Scientists think it went a little something like this… Many aquatic clown lifeforms are chilling in the ocean. FWEEEEEEEEET. Lifeguard Clown blows his whistle. “Adult Swim!” UGGGGGGGGH. The collective of new life groans as they all vacate the oceans onto the land. A Clown in a rubber ducky ring and arm floaties stamps out of the water, removing his snorkel and breathing in the cool Clown City air for the first time. “OH SWEET!” He kneels down, “GROUND MULCH!” and he begins feverishly chomping on grass. Many others followed suit, taking to the land and living amongst the dense forests of Clown City, eating mulch and breeding in intricate and confusing ways. This was the beginning of Clownmanity, but not the beginning of Clownciety… Clownciety? Who the hell wrote this? “Neil! I swear to Clown God! If you keep cutting off and talking to us I’m gonna put you in a catapult and send you back to that cryopod we found you in!” Please no! It’s so cold in there and no one can hear my smooth voice! “Then read the script Tyson!” Fine! Fine! … Although Clown City had its Clown inhabitants, it wasn’t until one fateful day that two clowns shared the same great idea. To build a city together. This is that story. … I just want to point out, we’ve said what this story is about like three different times… "Guards, seize him!" Two Clown Guards take Neil deGrasse Tyson by the arms! W-w-wait! You swore I’d be protected! The Clown Producer smiles menacingly… "Oh you’ll be well-protected when you’re FROZEN IN CARBONITE!" NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! The Clown Troopers drag Neil off. The Clown Producer picks up Neil’s headset. Anyway, back to what this story is really about. Wolves! A pack of wolves roam the outskirts of a small dwelling of Cave-Clowns, dress in polkadot loin cloths and carrying blow-up novelty clubs. “Ug.” Says one clown to another. “Ug.” Replies the other clown. “Ug ug.” The first nods and the two exchange rocks. “Man, those two are weird.” Comments one of the Cave-Clowns beside the fire, “Why did we let them into the group again?” “Clearly they’re messed up man, just let them be, they don’t mean no harm.” The wolves lick their lips and slowly descend on the ground, inches away before pouncing and attacking the straddlers. One Cave-Clown goes down, the mighty jaws of the wolf clamping down on his shoulder and tearing pale white flesh. But Cave-Clowns were used to these attacks and built defences to halt the wolves offence. “Yoo-hoo, boys!” One clown dressed up like a sexy wolf says, waving his fingers to catch their attention. The wolves jump in mid-air as the eyes bulge out of their sockets and begin pounding the ground and howling in delight! One wolf, most likely the alpha, bolts to the clown in wolf drag and begins kissing his arm up and down while speaking French. The Wolf wriggles its eyebrows at Clown in Wolf Drag Clown. “Ma’am, if I may be so bold… Awoooooooooooooh!” The Wolf howls. This is the moment the clown attacks, throwing his club down on the wolf’s head stunning it, and causing his teeth to move like piano keys giving a final playing of “Mary had a little lamb” before falling out of the wolf’s jaws. The other Cave-Clowns spring into action, some a little harder than others as the spring launches them into the sky, never to be seen ever again. And a brawl transpires, Cave-Clown against wolf! Club against tooth! Metaphor against analogy! And the wolves leave wounded, but take a few victims with them. The battlefield littered with casualties from either side, Cave-Clown medics rush over to pick up one of the bodies on a stretcher but the body immediately falls through and the medics carry on none the wiser. Amongst the fallen lies a small wolf cub, its leg injured and the Cave-Clowns gather over it as it snarls. “... What do we do with this one?” Asks one Cave-Clown. “Eat it?” “Don’t be so macabre, Macabre Clown, it’s just a puppy!” “Ugh” Macabre Clown sighs, “Of course you’d get attached so quickly, Finds-Sentimental-Value-in-Everything Clown.” “Hey! Least I’m not a monster!” “Woah!” Frankenstein’s Monster throws up his palms, “Less of the name calling here!” “As Group Leader, I Group Leader Clown have the final say.” “You’re the Group Leader for a Telecoms Company, dude! Those haven’t even been invented yet!” “Well, until they are invented, I have final say! And I say we adopt the cub and teach it our ways, the ways of the clown, in the hopes that one day, Clownkind and Wolfkind will finally join together in harmony!” “And Frankenstein’s Monsters!” Added Frankenstein’s Monster. … One angry pitchfork and torch session later, Frankenstein’s Monster driven out of the cave and fled into the depths of Clown Forest (which is a parking lot). “Yes.” nodded Group Leader Clown, tossing his pitchfork away. “Now that we’ve gotten rid of Frankenstein’s Monster, we can build an inclusive society where Clownkind and Wolfkind can live in harmony.” The remaining clowns think for a moment, a few nods amongst them. “Thats such a gay idea.” Says Derogatory Clown. “Woah! That’s not cool, why did we let you in the group?” “I just kept saying ug over and over to make you guys think I wasn’t a giant asshole, but that other guy who said ug is dead now so I’ve got nothing to lose!” After a very awkward conversation, we go to the wolves, pulling the body of Cave-Clown back to their… Nest? Where do wolves live? Den! Back to their den! Why was that in the script? Seems a bit-OH NO! *The doors crash open and two guards rush into the booth, pulling Producer Clown out as he screams. The quick pattering of feet occur and someone else quickly grabs the microphone* “What they’re telling you is all lies!” Says Tinfoil Hat Clown adjusting his tinfoil hat. His tinfoil squeaks as he adjusts it. “They’re tyring to do the whole Romulus and Remus shit with fucking Rome but it’s all BULLSHIT!!! This wasn’t how Clowns were created! It was by some fucking nerds with too much time on their hands willing us into existence, man! They have a chat room or something! I have their LOGS! They just create clowns in their spare time and keep saying fuck the roster! I don’t know what it means, man, I don’t know what it fucking means but I know its true! I- HEY GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!! YOU CAN SILENCE ME BUT YOU CAN’T SILENCE THE TRUTH!” *A scuffle occurs* “YOU KEEP THAT COMICALLY LARGE BUTTERFLY NET AWAY FROM ME! I’M NOT CRAZY! YOU’RE THE CRAZY ONES!” *The man is finally silenced and carried away, wrapped in his own tinfoil and packed into a large fridge next to Frozen-in-Carbonite Neil DeGrasse Tyson. After a long pause the sound of a throat clearing into the mic is heard.* Hello, I’m David Attenborough, yes, the real one. Not that you asked, but I’m dating Lindsay, Neil’s ex. Let us continue. As the pack take away their prey to feast, a small honking is heard, in the corpses bosom lays a small baby clown looking as all baby clowns do, wearing an oversized bib and holding a comically large lollipop, it giggles as the wolves lean in and look at it. There’s a moment where the wolves side-eye each other and have a silent conversation about the morals of eating a baby and if their wolf god would punish them. “Nah, bro, fucking go for it.” says Wolf God, smashing an empty beer can into his own wolf head. However, In the end, they decide to spare the child and allow it into the pack, hoping that one day its clown DNA and wolf values would help build a link between Wolfkind and Clownkind. “That’s pretty gay.” Says one wolf who is immediately kicked out of the pack.
*David Attenborough takes a long sip of caramel macchiato. You can’t hear his eyes scanning the script with a deep look of sadness and bewilderment, but you can feel it. With a small sigh, he continues like the fucking professional he is.* As the cub grew amongst the clowns, learning their ways of juggling rocks, pratfalls onto rocks and riding the unicycle made of rocks. The clown grew with his pack, learning to hunt, stalk their prey and howl at the moon, which really pissed off the mimes that lived there. A mime quietly shakes his fist down at Raised-by-Wolves Clown. He reaches behind his back for a sign that says “KEEP IT DOWN!” They grew, they learned, 50% of them clowned around. And one day. They finally met. On the savannah, at a watering hole. A small oasis in the barren wastes. The pack and the group enter at the same time, there’s a tension in the air. A small sense of danger lingers under the common consensus that there should be no fighting at the watering hole, it says so on the sign that Lifeguard Clown pointed to before he goes back to sunbathing. Group Leader Clown raises an eyebrow at the Clown among the wolves on all fours slowly moving to the water, he turns to one of his fellow Cave-Clowns. “Hey… Remember that one baby we lost to the wolves many years ago?” The Cave-Clown looks to his right and back to Group Leader Clown, “You talking to me?” Asks Double-Checking-that-the-Conversation-is-Aimed-at-Him Clown. “Yes! Fuck! Change your name to Pays Attention Clown or something!” “He better fucking not!” Pays Attention Clown interrupts, “Yeah! I was paying attention to your conversation!” “Isn’t that my bit?” Remarks Eavesdropping Clown. “Enough!” Group Leader Clown snaps, “I hate this Group Dynamic! At least Raised by Clowns Wolf doesn’t yap my ear off!” Raised by Wolf Clown is too busy continuously slipping on a banana peel. “Look at ‘im go!” Supporter-of-the-Clown-Arts Clown smiles. “But yeah, that kid we lost to wolves, you guys don’t think that could be him?” Group Leader Clown points over to the pack, specifically at the clown scratching himself with his hind leg, which is just a normal clown leg. “Yes.” Says Pays Attention Clown, “Of course that’s him, I pay attention to the narrative!” He proceeds to fold his arms smugly. “Yo, you need to stop chopping other peoples bits!” Says Folds–His-Arms-Smugly Clown, “Or else you could end up in Clown Jail, not that I’d mind.” He chuckles and folds his arms smugly with a grin. Suddenly, a pair of handcuffs are slapped on Folds-His-Arms Smugly Clown’s Wrists, (in front of his chest, of course, as his arms are smugly folded in front of himself). “You’re under arrest for stealing another clown’s bit!” Says Wrongful-Arrest Cop Clown. “Wait no! No, I’m actually supposed to fold my arms smugly! That’s MY bit!” wails Folds-His-Arms-Smugly Clown! “I’m Folds-His-Arms-Smugly Clown!” Over his pleas and protests, Folds-His-Arms-Smugly Clown is chucked into the back of a paddy wagon (which is a wagon made out of Ireland). “It’s a living!” Says Ireland. Raised-By-Wolves Clown takes out a pair of binoculars and looks across the watering hole at the pack, there’s a quiet moment where the is some kind of recognition on his Scooby Doo ass face as he lowers the binoculars and of course two black circles are painted around his eyes. “Ha, what a fresh new joke!” Says Appreciate-The-New-Jokes Clown. And wouldn’t you know, but that little clown that nobody liked grew up to become Appreciates-The-Classics Clown, a clown that, to this day, no one likes. Raised-by-Clowns Wolf takes a few steps over to the pack who raise their heads confused and look to one another. “... If that wolf walking fucking bipedal?” Asks one. “Yeah, and he’s wearing suspenders… Could that be the cub we lost many moons ago?” “Many moons ago is a really vague term, we should like… Invent the calendar.” “What the fuck is a calendar!?” “I don’t know… I’m freaking out a bit looking at this wolf clown… where did he get a unicycle from?” Raised-by-Clowns Wolf rides over juggling a set of letters as he approaches Raised-by-Wolves Clown and the letters spell out “BROTHER?” To this day, no one knows where he got a question mark from. Raised-by-Wolves Clown looks up at Raised-by-Clowns Wolf, a tear forming in his eye as he gets emotions and thought he never once knew he had. He makes a sound with his mouth, almost trying to form words before reeling his back and howling into the sky. “AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-HONK!!!” The other wolves join with their howls and the clowns across the watering hole join in with their honks. The two groups form together, sharing common interests such as… Being mammals maybe, and having hair, except for Bald Clown but we WILL NEVER SPEAK OF HIM AGAIN! He knows what he did. Raised-by-Wolves Clown puts a paw (which is a hand (the hand also has a huge white glove on it)) on Raised-by-Clowns Wolf’s shoulder and forces a brutish grunt of clown words at him, “To-gether, we will make a home for us all! And the home will be called… Clown Planet, which is a city!” Raised-by-Clowns Wolf nods and his suspenders ping off forcing his trousers to fall down to his ankles. And that, my dear friends is how the first city on Clown City, which is a planet, was founded. And to this day, if you go to Clown Planet, which is a city, you will see a large statue in the planet center, which is a city center, depicting the two founders. You can also see them in real life, as they are both still alive as all clowns are immortal until they need to be dead for a story. I’ve been David Attenborough. And I’m fucking Neil deGrasse Tyson’s wife. God Clown speed, and good night.
In a lair, filled with smoke and 80s neon. A wall of black is shown through the fog. Neil deGrasse Tyson frozen in carbonite, a look of horror forever frozen on his face, slowly blinks as the carbonite begins to melt away. A figure in a dark robe cackles menacingly. “Yes, yes GOOD! Soon you shall be unfrozen, and you shall no longer be Neil deGrasse Tyson but become my apprentice! DARTH DEGRASSES TYSON! And together we will rule the Clown Galaxy, which is a solar system, with a cruel iron fist! Muahahahahahahahaha!!!" To be continued??????? Probably not! But maybe! But probably not. BYE! |