And now for another classic episode of Normal Man Clown

INT. OFFICE - Normal Man Clown, who is a zany character that is a clown, except his face isn’t painted, he doesn’t have a red rubber nose, and he’s not dressed in stripes and polka dots but instead in a business suit is walking down the street.

He is approached by Greetings Clown, the Clown who greets other Clowns.

“Hey, Normal Man Clown! How’s your day going?”

Normal Man Clown grabs Greeting Clown by the shoulders.

“Please! You’ve gotta help me! I’m not Normal Man Clown! I… I don’t know why everyone keeps calling me that! My name is Hank Peterson! I’m from Duluth, Minnesota! I work in sales! I haven’t seen my wife in days! I woke up one morning and everyone was fucking CLOWNS!”

“Haha, oh Normal Man Clown! You’re so wacky!”

“LISTEN TO M-”

We interrupt this High-LARIOUS episode of ‘Normal Man Clown’ to bring you an important news bulletin! We go now to Seven-Second Delay Clown.

Seven-Second Delay Clown is standing in front of the camera.

…

……

………

…

Can h-... right, his bit is seven second delay, so…

…

No, yeah, I get it. I get the joke.

…

It’s been more than seven seconds now…

…

Maybe, not only is he on a seven second delay, but there’s an actual delay in the broadcast?

…

This bit has gone on too l-.

“Thanks, News Bulletin Clown!” Barks Seven-Second Delay Clown, after, like… twelve seconds. “The Clowns of Clown City, which is a planet, are excitedly gathered around the first Rocket Ship that will take Clownkind to where it has never been! Title Planet!”

”Which is a city!” Another news clown pokes his head in from the side.

“Yes, thank you, Misleading Context Clown! Title Planet is a City! On a different Planet.”

”Called Title City!” A third news clown also pokes their head in the screen.

“YES, THANK YOU, WRAPS-THE-BIT-AT-ITS-LOGICAL-ENDPOINT CLOWN.”

”Hey, don’t yell at WTBAILE Clown, he’s just doing his job.”

“I’M NOT MAD AT HIM, I’M JUST READING THE TELEPROMPTER WHICH IS IN ALL CAPS!”

Teleprompter Clown realizes he has the Caps Lock key activated.

“Oh shoot!” He tries to take off his cap, but it’s locked on.

“We go now to the Rocket, captained by the brave clown, Astronaut Clown!”

---

“Oh God Clown, Oh Jesus Clown…” Astronaut Clown rapidly bites his fingernails. “Why did I lie on my resume to apply to be Starbucks Clown that I’d been to the stars and made a bunch of bucks!”

The intercom on the rocket honks.

“Astronaut Clown, this is Houston Clown. Do you copy?”

“Yes, and sometimes I paste, but usually I change some words around so it doesn’t look plagiarized.”

“Roger that.”

Houston Clown types that statement out and then stamps it with Roger’s face.



“Houston Clown, shouldn’t I have a crew with me? Perhaps a crew of unique and zany personas?”

“Negative!” Houston Clown barks, “That’ll add too much weight to the rocket.”

Cut to outside view as the Rocket is strapped back into a giant slingshot.

“Besides, if you have a crew then how would we stock up the insides with delicious cream pies and loose marbles?”

“Why would a rocket need loose marbles?”

Houston Clown squints and covers the mic looking at Look of Approval Clown, “Where did we find this, bozo?”

Look of Approval Clown nods approvingly.

Houston Clown squeezes the bridge of his nose, upon which is a tattoo of a bridge, before pressing his finger on the radio button.

“Astronaut Clown, we are set for lift-off.”

Suddenly, a bunch of clowns with huge biceps run up to the rocket and start lifting it.

“IT’S A LIFT OFF!” Says Master-of-Ceremonies Clown.

One Bench Press Competition Later

Houston Clown puts a medal around Biggest-Biceps Clown.

“And the Winner of the Lift-Off, by default, because he was scheduled last to lift the rocket and every other clown died attempting to do so… Biggest-Biceps Clown.”

Biggest-Biceps Clown pumps his massive biceps in celebration.

The screen goes black and white.

Biggest-Biceps Clown would attempt to celebrate his victory by lifting the rocket, after which he promptly died

“Unrelated to the lift-off, we are also set to launch.”

Astronaut Clown hooks his index finger around his space collar… “Uh… hey… it wouldn’t be too late to tell everyone that I lied on my resume and that I don’t know how to fly a rocket, right?”

“It wouldn’t be if you said it right now.”

“Phew, okay, that is what happened.”

“...Oh. Wish you would have told me several seconds ago. It is now too late.”


“...But, you said it wouldn’t be too late if I said it right now.”

“Right, ‘right now’ as in WHILE I was speaking. You said it after I was done speaking, at which point it was too late.”

Fuse-Lighting Clown lights a fuse away from the rocket then plugs his fingers in his ears, preparing for an ear-shattering kaboom.

“Rocket launching in T-Minus-Five… T-Minus-Four… T-Minus-Three…”

Linear Algebra Clown listens attentively, writing down these equations…

The fuse gets shorter…

Astronaut Clown wipes away the rapidly accumulating sweat on his forehead… His sweat honks as he wipes it away…

The fuse light runs all the way up to the rocket…

…

……

…

“...Did… did the fuse fail?”

“What fuse?”

“The one Fuse-Lighting Clown lit?”

“Oh, that guy’s not a Clown NASA employee, he just lights fuses.”

Fuse-Lighting Clown lights another fuse, this one connected to a very small firework.

It shoots into the sky and looks like a comically small butt.

“I love my job.”

…Astronaut Clown breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay, so… we’re NOT launching?”

“Oh, you wanted to launch?”

Houston Clown hits the big red LAUNCH button.

The Slingshot reels back the Rocket….

AND IT SHOOTS INTO THE SKY!

The Clowns watching the take-off all clap!

Their hands start honking like a fucking bicycle horn factory, it is so fucking loud and it is also patriotic and Lee Greenwood Clown steps onto a big stage to play “And I’m Proud to be a Clown City-ian!”

“And there you have it, folks! The Clowns have successfully launched a rocket to land on the planet of Title City! A proud day for Clownkind!”

…

“And we’re out.” Forgets-to-Turn-the-Feed-Off Clown says, having forgotten to turn the feed off. #26d0fc“Hey, do you think they’ll actually get to Title City?”[/color]

“Not a God-Clown-damn chance.”

---

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Astronaut Clown hurtles through the air in his rocket!

“Astronaut Clown, this is Houston Clown, over.”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Astronaut Clown! I just said OVER!”

“What’s over?”

“The launch! It’s over! You’re in space, you can stop screaming.”

“...Oh.”

Astronaut Clown walks over to the window outside his rocket, back at the planet of Clown City.

“...Huh, has Clown City always been… flat?”

The Planet of Clown City covers its chest, embarrassed.

“Well, I never!”

The Planet SMACKS the Rocket with its big gloved hand!

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” it hurtles through space even faster now!

The Rocket pings against a space bumper!

Goes through the bonus slide!

“Oh shit, Astronaut Clown’s going for the high-score!”



Astronaut Clown rebounds off the left flipper! And goes into a wormhole!

---

The wormhole has a fucking WORM RAVE GOING ON IT, OH SHIT!

Worms are doing glowstick dances! They are high on WORM MDMA! Which is the drug that lets you talk to WORM GOD.

“...Oh shit.” Astronaut Clown bobs his head to the beat of the #1 EDM Worm track, “Worm-utations!”

Suddenly, a handful of worms start aggressively dancing in the direction of the rocket.

…Astronaut Clown presses his communicator to his ear. “Um… Houston Clown, there are… a bunch of worms dancing at me?”

“Oh shit. It’s a dance battle. You’re going to have to dance battle the worms.”

“...Oh God.” Astronaut Clown sweats…

---

TWO DANCE BATTLES LATER

The Rocket casually flies out of the worm hole, the worms all waving goodbye!

“Wow, I can’t believe those worms had never seen someone do the Worm before.”

“I can’t believe the Worms accused you of appropriating their culture, held a trial seeking the death penalty, and only released you after you declared a trial by Dance Battle and proceeded to do the Worm a SECOND time.”

“They would have to have a trial over my trial. It was a trial inception, like an ouroboros of judicial procedure!”

“No, look out your window, THAT’S an ouroboros of judicial procedure.”

Astronaut Clown looks out the window.

A space snake in a powdered wig sentences his own ass that he’s consuming to a thirty-day sentence for space snake cannibalism.

“...Huh.”

---

Astronaut Clown looks out the window of the rocket and sees the golden planet…

Title City!

“Huh. Neat.” Astronaut Clown beams with wonder. “I wish you could see this, Houston Clown…”

“One sec…”

The bathroom of the rocket flushes.

The bathroom door opens and Houston Clown emerges, standing beside Astronaut Clown.

“Huh. Neat.”

…

“Wait. You’ve been in the rocket with me the whole time?”

“Yeah, that’s how you could hear my voice.”

“...I thought we were talking over a radio…”

Houston Clown shakes his head, his neck honking. “You didn’t notice that your microphone is a tin can and the speaker is connected to a string and a tin can?”

…Astronaut Clown hangs up his tin can.

“Wait, but… I thought you were Houston Clown?”

“I am.”

“So… shouldn’t you be on the ground running operations on this mission?”

“Ohhhhhhhhhh, I see. No, you’re thinking of Mission Control Clown. I’m Houston Clown as in a clown themed around Houston, Texas.”

Houston Clown tips his ten-gallon hat.

“Well, where the hell is Mission Control Clown then?!?”

---

MEANWHILE AT MISSION CONTROL CLOWN’S HOUSE

“Aaaand we are set… Decrease thrusters, rotate seven degrees…”

A spoon flutters through the air.

“Touchdown in three… two…”

It connects with a bowl of cereal and gets a scoop.

“The cheerios are secure.”

Across the breakfast table, Mission Control Clown’s Mother, Disapproving Mother Clown crosses her arms.

“BIG DEAL! YOU WORK FOR CLOWN NASA! YOU WEREN’T THERE FOR THE ROCKET LAUNCH TODAY! WHEN ARE YOU GONNA GIVE ME SOME CLOWN GRANDCHILDREN AND MAKE ME A DISAPPROVING GRANDMOTHER CLOWN?!?”

…Mission Control Clown sighs, as he lifts a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

“Rotate seventeen degrees aaaaaaaand…”

He uncorks the bottle.

It shoots into his eyes because someone shook it.

“Haha, classic.” Loves-the-Classics Clown smiles.

(He’s there because he and Disapproving Mother Clown are hooking up).

---

“Alright, we’re just a few minutes from landing on Title City…”

Ding.

“Mmm. We’re almost out of fuel.”

“...Wait, we didn’t have enough rocket fuel to actually get to Title City? Shouldn’t we have had that.”

“Hey, the War in Clown Iran has made clown gas super expensive.”

Houston Clown taps a few buttons on his display.

Which is a giant Apple iPhone screen. He proceeds to open up maps and search “Gas Near Me”...

“Oh God....” Astronaut Clown wraps his head in his hands, even though his head is covered in a space helmet. “That’s never gonna work! We’re gonna die in this rocket in the middle of space and I’m panicking which means we’re gonna run out of oxygen, which is making me panic harder! This is like an ouroboros of anxiety!”

“No, look out your window. THAT’S an ouroboros of anxiety.”

Astronaut Clown looks out the window.

A space snake breathes into a paper bag, inside of the bag is its own space snake ass.

“...Huh. Well, we’re still doomed! Game over, man! GAME OV-”

DING!

“Take the next space right.”

“...What?”

“Yeah, there’s a gas station literally a space mile down the space road.”

“...Oh.”

…

“Neat.”

---

The Clown Rocket pulls into a three-dimensional parking space, approaching the interstellar gas station…

From the inside of the gas station, two figures in paper masks stand… One is wringing their hands fiendishly.

“Heheheheheheh… those fools! They thought they were going to get to Title City… but they’re walking right into my hands! ME! Director Clown!”

“And also me! Easily-Tricked-By-The-Director-Clown Clown!”

“Let’s go out there and fight them! Carry me!”

“Ugh, why do I have to carry you all the time…”

“Because they put your Clown Sister in the hospital.”

“WHAT?!?”

“Yeah, see, here’s a video feed of her in the hospital.”

Director Clown hands ETBTDC Clown a crude stick figure doodle of a lady clown with a sad face.

…

ETBTDC Clown squints skeptically. “How do I know this is a LIVE doodle drawing?”

…Director Clown sighs.

He takes back the drawing.

Sketches for a minute…

And hands it back to ETBTDC Clown.

The drawing of his sister is now holding a newspaper that literally says “Today’s Date”

“SIS! NOOOOOOOOOO! I’LL KILL THEM!”

ETBTDC Clown picks up Director Clown in piggy back position and dashes out the door!

---

Astronaut Clown is outside the rocket pumping rocket fuel.

The Rocket Fuel is $4.50 a gallon.

Next to the price is a sticker of the President of Space pointing, with text reading ‘I did that.’

CLICK! The fuel is done being pumped!

“Okay!” Astronaut Clown puts the pump back. “We have a full tank and are ready to go to Title City!”

“Which is a planet!”

“NOT SO FUCKING FAST!”

Emerging from the gas station, it’s ETBTDC Clown and Director Clown riding on top of his shoulders.

Director Clown, adjusting his paper mask, points menacingly! “What the hell are you Clowns doing out here!?!”

“Oh, we want to be the first clowns to land on Title Planet.”

“Which is a city!”

“Well, fuck you two! Cuz WE rule Title Planet!”

“...Really?”

“Yeah, take a look!” Director Clown hands over a telescope…

Astronaut Clown looks through it.

And sees a big flag unfurled on Title City…

Title City (the Planet) (No Summer Pages allowed)[ Currently Ruled by Director Clown

“Oh… okay,” Astronaut Clown scratches his head… “So… what happens now?”

“What happens now?!? We FIGHT! THE WINNER RULES TITLE CITY!”

“Which is a planet!”

WHAM! ETBTDC Clown dives on top of Astronaut Clown!

“YOU ATTACKED MY SISTER!”

…Astronaut Clown manages to roll onto ETBTDC Clown, holding him down.

“I don’t think I did that.”

…ETBTDC Clown looks up at Director Clown.

“HEY! He said he DIDN’T attack my sister!”

“Mmm.” Director Clown nods thoughtfully. “But have you considered that today is opposite day?”

…ETBTDC Clown gasps!

“So, he DID attack my sister!”

ETBTDC Clown punches down on Astronaut Clown the rain of fists dinging of his helmet as Astronaut Clown is unfazed by the blows.

“DAMN!” He damns, “He has some kind of forcefield protecting him!”

“That’s no forcefield, you dolt! It’s a helmet! It’s like a paper mask but see-through!”

“Oh,” ETBTDC Clown looks back down at Astronaut Clown who stares at him, “Well, if there’s one thing that beats paper, it’s SCISSORS!”

ETBTDC Clown shakes his fist 3 times and motions his hand into a pair of scissors, but Astronaut Clown already threw out rock!

“Wow, he’s good!” ETBTDC Clown remarks before getting hit with a rock.

Director Clown rubs a clown glove down his mask, smearing the children’s drawing plastered onto it into a frowny face.

“Looks like I’ll have to deal with this myself!” Director Clown rolls up his sleeves and gets into a fighting stance, “Have at you!”

“Hold it, pardner!” Houston Clown grabs two gas pumps and begins spinning them around doing tricks as if they were revolvers, “Remember the Space Alamo!”

Houston Clown spits, the spit in zero gravity drifts slowly along the void and hits a spittoon on Proxima Clowntauri B then pulls the trigger on the pumps, dousing Director Clown in space gasoline! The little sticker of the Space President looks around in shock as the price of gas skyrockets even more and a little speech bubble comes from him saying “This is the immigrant’s fault!”

Director Clown splutters gasoline out from under his mask, “Hawk-tooey! Two can play at that game, and unluckily for you Houston Clown, I love copying from other people!”

Director Clown grabs a pump and goes to shoot it, but the nozzle goes limp with a slide whistle sound. The ticker on the pump rolls over to “NADA!”

“Grr!” Director Clown grrs, “Why do bad things keep happening to me!? ETBTDC Clown, clearly this is your fault!”

“Huh!?” ETBTDC Clown turns confused, “It is? … Well if you say so!”

Distracted, Astronaut Clown kicks up into ETBTDC Clown’s guts and sends him sailing into outer space!

He tumbles through the cosmos with a comically scream before hitting a solid object with an “OOFPH”

“Hey pal!” Says an Ourobouros minding its own business, “Can’t ya see I’m tryna eat my own ass here!?”

And whacks ETBTDC Clown back down to the Space Gas Station with his head and his ass simultaneously!

“Enough games!” Says Director Clown, “It’s time to unleash my full power!”

He removes his gas soaked mask and reveals…

Some clown!

With a barely noticeable shitty scar on his cheek!

And a goatee!

“Yes! IT IS I! EVIL HOUSTON CLOWN!”

“Evil Houston Clown?” Houston Clown squints, “Dallas Clown!? I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

Houston Clown charges in a Space Texan fury and tackles Evil Houston Clown down onto the ground, both rolling in gasoline like a sexy PSA for fire safety.

Astronaut Clown gets to his feet and dusts himself off as ETBTDC Clown sticks into the ground like a space lawn dart.

“Whaddup,” Says Isn’t-Aware-That-Smoking-Is-Illegal-Near-A-Space-Gas-Station Clown whilst smoking a cigarette, “Boy, I love having an open flame near all this!”

Astronaut Clown slaps him and snatches the space cigarette out of his mouth and points it like a gun at the two clowns rolling around on the space ground.

“STOP!” Astronaut Clown yells.

The pair stop, entwined in a brawl and look at Astronaut Clown and slowly get to their feet with their arms up in the air.

“Smart move, Astronaut Clown.” Says Houston Clown, “Cook this Cowboy!”

Astronaut Clown looks between the two, “But… How do I know which is the real Houston Clown!?”

“...What?” Houston Clown questions looking between the two.

Evil Houston Clown smirks, evilly, “I’m the real Houston Clown! Look at my trademark goatee and love of College Football!”

“Astronaut Clown, if you set me on fire, I will break your Clown-Goddamn jaw!”

Astronaut Clown switches the ciggie between the two, sweat pouring down his face and fogging his helmet, he reaches inside his helmet and draws a little worried face in the condensation.

ETBTDC Clown pulls himself out of the dirt and shakes his head, he rubs his eyes and gawps at the Space Texan Clowns.

“I’m seeing double! FOUR Director Clowns!”

“You fool!” Evil Houston Clown spits, “There is only one of me!... Oh shit.”

Astronaut Clown flicks the cigarette and it spins through the vacuum of space before hitting Evil Houston Clown and ignites him into a fireball!

Evil Houston Clown is propelled into the air with a cartoonish wail while holding his scorched butt and vanishes into the void with a twinkle of a star.

ETBTDC Clown’s eyes widen with fury!

“You just scorched the ass of my best friend!”

“That dude? He basically built his whole career on gaslighting you into fighting his battles for him.”

“WELL, I’M GONNA LIGHT YOUR GAS INTO… wait, hold on…”

“Yeah, that was a weird way to say that.”

“No, I mean, like, my break at the gas station just started.” ETBTDC Clown pulls out a cigarette. “C’mon, let’s go smoke by the dumpsters…”

---

And now for some Talk by the Trash

Astronaut Clown and Houston Clown stand by the dumpsters, just kinda chilling as ETBTDC Clown smokes.

“...Fuckin’ hate that guy.”

“Who?”

“Director Clown SLASH Evil Houston Clown.”

“...Weren’t you just about to fight us so you could avenge him?”

“Uh, yeah? But, I’m on break now? So I get to complain about him?”

“...Oh. Okay, I guess.”

“He literally makes me carry him everywhere.” ETBTDC exhales impatiently, taking a drag of his ciggie. “Did you know he doesn’t even direct things?”

“...What?”

“Yeah! This whole time I thought, OH, he’s a DIRECTOR CLOWN! He must direct things all the time! But no! He doesn’t direct traffic! He doesn’t direct conversation! I once confronted him about it! And you know what? He was INDIRECT in how he replied!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, totally! He was like… well, that’s your opinion! Like, he didn’t even address my points!”

“HOW DARE YOU?”

Crawling from the twisted burning void, holding his still flaming space ass…

EVIL HOUSTON CLOWN RETURNS!

“HOW DARE YOU MOCK ME! AND AFTER ALL I’VE DONE NOTHING BUT BE A GREAT PARTNER TO YOU, Easily-Tricked-By-Director-Clown Clown!”

“But, you don’t direct anything!”

“I totally do! Look!” Evil Houston Clown points at his face! “See! I made my face look like Houston Clown!”

…

Houston Clown clears his throat.

“Okay, I have no skin in this game, but… I guess to ETBDCC’s point… WHY did you do that?”

“...Pardon?”

“I mean, a mastermind usually has… like… an underlying motive, right? Astronaut Clown, back me up here.”

“No, for sure. Like… usually, the reason someone evil does things is to serve some ultimate villainous purpose. So… like… WHY do you look like Houston Clown?”

“BECAUSE I’M HIS EVIL TWIN!”

“...Right, right. But… like… why are you evil? Why are you attacking the guy you look like?”

“...Okay, wait, let’s start over! I don’t NEED a point! I don’t NEED a reason! I just like doing evil shit! I’m an evil clown! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

…

“That… kinda sucks.”

“WHAT?!? NO IT DOESN’T.”

“Nah, it kinda does. Evil has a point. Like malice or greed…”

“You’re just… a dick for the sake of it. That doesn’t make you evil. That makes you a douchebag.”

“WHAT?!? NO! I’M DEVIOUS!”

“Nah, you’re just kind of a… lame user.”

“CLOWNS DON’T NEED REASONS!”

“Dude, every clown has a reason!”

“I became Astronaut Clown because I lied on a resume!”

“I became Houston Clown because FUCK DALLAS!”

---

Cockney Orphan Clown tips his chimney-broom! “Oi became Cockney Orphan Clown for the twice-daily table scraps and because chim-I-neys are so warm!”

---

Infidelity Clown turns to the camera as he leads Floozy Clown back to his hotel room: “My parent clowns were faithfully married and despised each other. Now I self-sabotage my marriage because I’m terrified of what it means if I try my best to be a good husband clown and it still don’t work. So I don’t.”

Floozy Clown, following him into the hotel room: “I can fix him.”

Pervert Clown, watching from outside the hotel room with a pair of binoculars: “Oh! Uh… no, I’m… uh… Birdwatching Clown. Cuz birds are… really… cool.”

Birdwatching Clown smiles beside Pervert Clown, looking through his own binoculars. "I'm secretly a pervert."

---

Janitor-at-an-Authentic-Mexican-Restaurant Clown shrugs  “…It’s a living.”

Prison-Snitch-Clown in the middle of being stabbed in the stomach with a sharpened rusty spoon, shrugs: “It’s a shivving.”

Stabs-Snitches-And-Is-Summarily-Executed-for-First-Degree-Murder Clown, getting strapped into the electric chair, shrugs  “It’s a liv-… oh, wait…”

---

“I DIDN’T CHOOSE TO BE NORMAL MAN CLOWN! PLEASE, MY NAME IS HANK PETERSON! I HAVE A SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER! IF YOU’RE WATCHING THIS, TELL MY WIF-”

---

“And I became ETBTDC because… even though I’m much better at fighting and talking and making evil plans than you…”

…

“Wait… why *am* I ETBTDC Clown…?”

“Shuddup! We can still win this fight! Carry me!”

“UGH! But you’re so heavy…”

“Hey! I’m done talking! I’ve said, basically a whole paragraph! Why isn’t that enough for you?!?”

ETBTDC Clown and Evil Houston Clown continue yelling at each other in a gas station parking lot…

…Houston Clown clears his throat and nods to Astronaut Clown.

“Hey. Wanna go do that thing?”

“Hmmm?”

…

“Oh right. Yeah, let’s go to Title City.”

”Which is a planet!”

The two get back in their spacecraft.

Leaving behind the two hopeless clowns…