Big. Red. Bumpy. Almost crusty. Like the

Big. Red. Bumpy. Almost crusty. Like the puffed up hard bubbles on a pizza crust. But this had more cracks. Clear liquid drained from the cracks. It had a sort of carbonated smell.

It started on his back and now was taking on more momentum as the virus moved toward his neck. He tried to hide it, his wife hadn't noticed, but it wouldn't be long before the

fire brigade turned up and ruined his chances. He looked down at the ticking timer, sweat dripping from his brow. He had run out of ideas. He froze. 3... 2... 1...

"SUPRISE!" they shouted again, thinking I missed the first one. Julia thrust something to my face once more, telling me to blow- Wait, I'm in 'Nam! I flipped the dirty Viet over my

Such an epiphany sucked the life right out of Julia. It burst her bubble, and you could practically hear it go, "Pop!" A rocket shot the carnival crowd in half. "No more Mr. Nice

ly." Mr. Nicely, the carnival manager, was found dead with the rocket embedded in his forehead. "YOUR FAULT!" the crowd shouted at Julia, who cowered behind the Fat Lady's tent.

Julia burst into tears and ran from the big top. She hadn't meant to kill anyone! She just wanted to make Mr. Nicely jump, as payback for making her clean out the lion's cage.

Julia became a fugitive. The ring master found Mr. Nicely corpse. He knew he had only one option to track her down, send in the clowns.

The shock ricocheted up Julia's spine and into her brain where it hit something that killed her instantly and through her dying eyes she saw the clown smile. Job done.