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The Evil Clown Who Sleeps Beneath

Clown.

“Sweet dreams!”

It is a little known fact that all of us have a clown who lives under our bed. Not a jolly balloon-animal-modelling squirty-flower clown, this is an evil clown and no matter how you try to kid yourself that these things don’t exist, that you have nothing more than a few dust bunnies and crispy socks under there, trust me, beneath the platform on which you slumber resides a very evil and very real clown.

At this point, some of you may be scoffing and thinking “tra la la, I have no room under my bed/I l sleep on a futon/I sleep standing up so this can’t possibly apply to me”, well, bad news. Just as Father Christmas finds a way to deliver gifts to children devoid of chimney access points, evil clowns too find a suitable place to lurk, namely your wardrobe. If you don’t have a wardrobe then the shadows that form as the sun makes its descent are the perfect spot for a demonic clown to hide.

No-one knows where evil clowns come from or just what makes them so very, very evil. Some say they are the tortured souls of failed children’s TV presenters, others that they are the leftover bigoted opinions not published by The Daily Mail, some claim that they do not exist at all. Those who claim that they do not exist should not be trusted as they are probably evil clowns in human costumes – after all, evil clowns love playing dress up.

Evil clowns like to eat feet that dangle from under the duvet as you enjoy the cool air between your toes, but don’t think tucking yourself in tightly will starve them, they feast upon your nightmares while you slumber and the heart fluttering doubts you feel as you try to convince yourself there are no such things as evil clowns who live under beds. Your night terrors are a buffet to them and they lick their lips with glee as they play tricks with your mind, tapping on the pipes or moving your reading glasses, causing you to chastise your rush of childish adrenaline. You can blame an overactive imagination all you like, they eat those for dessert.

Don’t be fooled into thinking that these sinister creatures only lurk in the midnight hours, waiting for the cover of full darkness; they think nothing of reaching out from beneath your dust ruffle to snatch at your ankles as you pass or try to gently ease yourself under the duvet. Make sure to take a frantic running limb-flailing leap at your bed as fast as you can, leaving no less than a 4 foot clearance, for if you stray too close and don’t have your wits about you, you risk being dragged beneath by wicked clutches, to be feasted upon by a big red slobbering smile.

You need never feel alone with an evil clown, for while you sleep they are watching, always watching. These laughing Hell-beasts lie waiting in gleeful anticipation for you to settle, staring up at the springs and wooden slats that separate the two of you, hungering for the taste of human flesh, biding their time until *click* out goes your bedside light and your breathing slows to indicate that you are no longer in conscious control of your defences. With the stealth of a steely ninja, they slip from the shadows and hover over you a mere inch from your face, silent and menacing, their yellowed eyes bulging with blood lust and devilment.

Should you wake in the night, keeping your eyes tightly closed, you will feel their hot fetid breath on your neck as they survey your prone form, hatching plans of cruel and grotesque wrong-doing. If you bravely try opening your peepers against the blackness of the night, quick as a flash they slink back beneath the shadowy recesses of the bed. You will never see them, save for the blink-and-you-miss-it glimpse of a giant shoe or maybe a rogue blood spattered juggling ball rolling across the floor, but the unmistakable scent of grease paint and menace lingers all about and their long spidery fingers, sheathed in grimy white gloves, rub together in victory as they inhale the delicious smell of fear that fills the room.

Ever woken in the middle of the night for no reason? Heard strange noises that can’t be justified? Suddenly can’t find your favourite watch when you only just put it down on the bed? What about that time you awoke in the small hours with a strange and ominous inkling that you were not alone? That, my friends, was your evil clown. Next time you hear a bump in the night, don’t worry, it’s probably not a burglar trying to steal your TV, it’s probably just the evil clown under your bed sharpening his teeth. Probably.

You may be wondering how I know all this. How it is I came to be the expert on the evil clowns who reside under your bed? Well, it could be because I tormented my evil clown to the point that he’s afraid of me and confessed all in a bid to have me leave him in peace. It could be that he whispers these nightmarish secrets in my ear as I sleep, or it could be, could just possibly be, that I am the evil clown under your bed.

Sleep well tonight and don’t worry, evil clowns aren’t really real, but then I would say that, wouldn’t I?

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