A Very Short Story
The mist rose up from the moat surrounding Caerphilly Castle. Early morning and residents and shoppers were awoken by clown cars making their way to their yearly pilgrimage to the statue of Tommy Cooper. They stopped their cars and the doors fell off. Out came the large shoes and revolving bow ties. These were no ordinary clowns. The killer clowns had come to this lockdown town. The clowns in Wetherspoons pressed their red noses to the frosted window pane to grab a better look. They had been in there all night making love to the sticky carpet. Clown cafe had opened and banger shaped balloons wafted through the door. Nobody messed with the Killer Clowns because they offered an alternative to the stagnation and ennui that wafted from every pore. Partisans and patriots shuffled nervously outside the Principality Building Society. South Wales had changed mun and not for the better. Where were the Socialists? Where were the Nationalists? In hiding or dead. Plenty of small minded businessmen voting Tory but now the Killer Clowns had come to town bringing their own brand of Poundland patter. "Poles & Migrants invading this Clown town" whispered one in the ear of a panting punter. "Oooh reeeaallllly, tell me more" said the undead. "European Re-Generation has pumped hundreds of thousands of pounds into this area but they are faceless bureaucrats so we must vote against them. Come with me in my clown car and I will take you to the voting booth. We can both shout WHEEEEEEEEEEEEE as we roll down hill" Well hwyl a sbri dyma ni! Out of Europe and delivered into the arms of cottage burner Alun Cairns. As the Killer Clowns leave having first poisoned the drinking water they unfurl a banner over the drawbridge to the Castle
"CAIRNS CARES"
This short story in no way infers that the late great Tommy Cooper would either condone or support the Killer Clown Club.
.jfif)
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