Bubbles Admits Elaborate Ruse

But, the Clown recently admitted to The Lint Screen that it is all a lie!

“Yeah, I’m a fake,” the despondent man in greasepaint said, pouring himself a rye whiskey neat. “I may have a smile on my face, but I’m not happy. Not by a longshot!”

In fact, Bubbles admitted he sometimes gets “lower than whale turds” after he sees the news or reads the newspaper. “It’s all so depressing, so futile. We’re just zombie-walking through an existential hellscape until we become worm chow. I mean, really, what’s it all mean? What’s it all matter?”

The clown said he gets little enjoyment from making others smile and laugh. “I know I should, but I honestly think I’m just helping people avoid the ugly truth of life’s constant struggle and endless swamps of pain, misery and constant suffering. Last week I tried telling a six-year-old my philosophy of life, and the kid’s parents got upset and reported me to management. The boss threatened me. Said to keep my fat yap shut or he’d send my size 68-wides walking. So, I straightened up and flew right. I know where my bread is buttered.”

Bubbles poured the last of his whiskey down his gullet and flung the empty bottle against a brick wall. “The sound of breaking glass makes me kind of happy,” he said. Then he smiled at this reporter and said, “Hey, want to pull my finger and see what happens?”

The naturally inquisitive reporter did pull his finger.

Apparently, the clown suffers from gastrointestinal troubles. No wonder he’s sad.