No!!! Did it have to be clowns?! Heart racing,

No!!! Did it have to be clowns?! Heart racing, he carefully clamored into a dusty broom closet. Vibrating in trepidation, a vigilant ear upon the door. Jingle, jingle....HONK!!!!

Honkie The Clown became the clown used by Clown Shoes Distillery, and featured on the infamous Clown Shoes Lubricant beer next to a gas pump on the packaging. Someone had a sense

of humor that was mighty twisted.I wanted to find out who was behind this Honkie the whiskey peddling Clown mascot little knowing that breaking into Clown Shoes Distillary Head Off

would lead me to uncover an unauthorized uranium refinement factory. Prying open my first bottle of Honkie Clown Whiskey, I knew the answer had to be at the bottom of one of these

.But no such luck.After my 6th bottle I gave up,frustrated but utterly drunk.What answer was I searching for anyway?Something about uranium... no, Uranus...your anus!Of course!

I immediately realised I had yelled that out loud. "Well well well.", I heard behind me in a husky voice. 3 dickwolves were standing there, battleclad and thursty. "No, it's not

mustard it's DELI mustard!" growled one of the dickwolves. But I had an ace up my sleeve, or should I say three. I released three erectile dysfunction bears.

The dickwolves took one look, dropped the deli mustard and ran away. The soft squishing of their footsteps seemed to calm the erectile dysfunction bears and they fell asleep on the

the soft moss. A fitting ending for such a story, but Jack could help but let one last tear slide down his cheek. There was nothing left anymore, not for him.