"The 31st weekly meeting of Goat club is

"The 31st weekly meeting of Goat club is now called to order.The secretary will now read the bylaws", said Great Goat John. "Rule #1 Never talk about Goat club. Rule #2 No Helgas"

Helga immediately burst into a cold sweat under her poorly constructed disguise. She'd known her husband John had been up to shenanigans for some time, but "Goat Club"? WTF?! She

couldn't stop to scream at her husband but had to continue to mime. That was her disguise. The Goat Club her hubbie belonged to had rented a mime for their annual

mime-rape tradition. Mrs. Fenderbike realized things were awry when they congratulated her mime costume too much, and her oblivious husband was seriously pissing her off now.

Mime-rape? I put down the submission and rubbed my eyes. Ever since '50 shades of facepaint,' clowns of all types have been sending in the worst. "Dear Mrs. Fenderbike," I wrote,

"We urgently need to discuss your proposal. Meet me in my penthouse torture big top. I'll be the one wearing just a red nose. Yrs Bozo Gray." Mrs Fenderbike clutched the email to

heaving bosom. Mrs. Fenderbike's imagination ran wild with anticipation. Bozo Gray wasn't clowning around, no sirree. She rushed to his bigtop penthouse, ready for, well, anything.

She and the Head Clown had a honkin' good time, and nine months later, she gave birth to Slappo, the Three-Legged Clown, who even in his infancy knew how to beep his own nose.

The hospital staff thought it was cute, but after hours of non-stop nose beeping, a nurse said, "Beat it, honky!" Little Slappo kicked all three legs and spat out his pacifier.

This caused him to topple over in an adorable manner, beeping & whistling with infantile rage. The frozen heart of the annoyed nurse melted. She found his pacifier & re-corked him.