Commence Clowning [FICTION]

My reflection gazes back at me nervously from the glass. I force a wide grin and trace my lips with red grease paint, accentuating pulling the corners up my smile toward my ears. As I finish, I flash another toothy grin. Then my eyes wander across the rest of my features. Beads of sweat dot my pale forehead. I blot them away and generously apply white grease paint. I move downward, gently tracing around my rouged smile. When I finish, my own face disappears, replaced by Daisy, the sweet clown with the bright orange, Gerber daisy encircling her left eye.

“You’re ready for this,” I pause for emphasis, “Valedictorian.”

I gently push the red foam circle of my chosen profession over my nose. The year 2016 sprawls across its surface in thin, glittery script. I step out of my private dressing room.

A tiny red car, the child of a Smart car and a Volkswagen Beetle, greets me. I plop down behind the oversized steering wheel, squeezing my humongous shoes into place to push on the gas pedal. As I lean forward, I bump the horn. A blast of excited beeps, wails, and whistles erupts around me. Fueled by the clamor, I drive wildly toward the center ring where our graduating class awaits my wise words.

I release a lever and shoot out of the top of the car, landing on a trampoline covered in pillows. When I finally manage to gain control of my bouncing, I bounce to the edge of the trampoline and jump gracefully to the ground. I step behind the neon green podium, kicking away more than a few errant banana peels.

Dozens of ghostly faces gaze back at me. Most wear exaggerated smiles, some weep cheerfully, while a few in the back freeze the blood in my veins. Someday, they might channel their clown genius toward a more attainable goal like heavy metal music, inspiring horror writers, and keeping little kids on the straight and narrow path.

“Sorry, I couldn’t slip in sooner,” I begin with a pointed look at another slimy banana peel that sails through the air to land on the podium, “But I didn’t reach the top of the class by falling prey to substandard pranks.

“Top of the class. Top of the totem pole. Driver of the tiniest car in existence. This is what I aspired for. This what I attained.”

A chorus of honks echoes across the assembled crowd.

“Thank you for that. I know we all learned the same jokes, slipped on the same banana peels, and covered our faces with the same grease paint, but the future holds more than that for each of us. You may not be valedictorian, but you are something better…”

A silent hush falls as smiling faces focus on me, anticipating the promise I am about to offer.

“You are the hope of tomorrow. You are the reason children will laugh through their tears or cry in their beds. You are the smiling faces that keep the bulls from goring unwanted riders and sell circus peanuts though they aren’t real nuts like us.

“You are the next generation of clowns. When children mourn their lost chance to see elephants on parade, you will cheer them up. When tiny cars need dozens of passengers, you will fill them. When tiny pools beg to be dived into from hundreds of feet up, you will take that dive…”

I pause, clasping my hands together and stretching my body as if I am about to make that fabulous leap.

“And the world will laugh with you. Go forth and bring hysterics to the world.”

Exaggerated laughter fills the air. Foam noses fill the air. Water sprays from dozens of brightly colored flowers. I step back from the podium.

“Ack.” I squeal as I slide backwards to land on my backside to an even louder, unfeigned round of laughter.

I owed someone some fiction and I had some writing prompts begging for attention. I hope you enjoy.

[REVIEW] [RECIPE] Esrever Doom

For those who love puns and humor, Piers Anthony delivers the giggles and wit that you seek. When I discovered one of his books at a yard sale over a decade ago, it entertained me completely, so when I saw Esrever Doom on display at the library, I grabbed it and raced to borrow it. (This insistence despite the two books I already had waiting for me at home.)

This novel features a mundane, much like you or me, who enters Xanth through a coma. Due to his dream qualities, he proves the perfect candidate for a quest. He must save Xanth from a strange curse that makes all the denizens of that unique realm see each other as the opposite of what they are. (In other words, I would be a tall, skinny elf who looks like she has never eaten to a cookie in her entire life.) An interesting assortment of characters get drawn into his quest, adding both color and intrigue. A zombie with renewed humanity, a couple interesting monster crossbreeds, and even a ghost join him for his adventures.

These interesting creatures also provide sexual innuendos that I don't remember from my previous delving into his writing. While he avoids graphic descriptions, I admit it takes me out of the story a little. Luckily, bad puns bring me back into a childlike state of mirth. I have to wonder how much time Mr. Anthony spends writing down puns and then figuring out how to insert them into the narrative. Every little pun adds to the story by providing supplies or tools for the questers while giving me a good laugh.

I aspire to develop such devotion to telling a good story. I need to make time in my schedule to read more novels that show me how to be a better writer...not to mention time to write. I know some of you are anxious for more [FICTION] and less [RANTING].

Cheery Pie

I shall make my own pun with a pie so delicious that it can cheer you up. Unfortunately, it doesn't grow on trees like the pies in the novel, so you have to put forth a little effort to get the benefit of its delightful flavor. You may want to add a little more sugar since I like tart pie to complement the scoop of eye scream I plop on top.

-2 pie crusts (enough crust to make one 2 crust pie)
-8 1/2 cups cherries, pitted and halved (or smaller if you prefer)
-1/3 cup cornstarch
-3/4 cup sugar
-1/4 cup lemon juice
-1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
-1/8 teaspoon cinnamon
-1 tbsp butter

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
2. Place one pie crust in pie pan and gently press into place.
3. Stir together cherries, cornstarch, sugar, lemon juice, nutmeg, and cinnamon over low heat in a thick-bottomed pan.
4. Allow cherry mixture to heat until it bubbles and juices begin to thicken. (You can skip steps 3 and 4, but I think the flavors mingle better this way.)
5. Pour into pie shell.
6. Cut butter into a few smaller pieces and place on filling.
7. Cover with second pie shell and gently press the two shells together. (You could also make a lattice work top crust if you have the time and patience.) Remember to make a few slits in the top crust to allow steam to escape and wrap the edges of the crust with aluminum foil or use a pie shield to keep them from burning.
8. Place on cookie sheet and bake at 425 degrees for 20 minutes.
9. Reduce heat to 375 degrees and bake an additional 40 minutes.
10. Allow to cool or you'll end up burning your tongue, which wouldn't cheer up any of the normal people.
11. Enjoy!