In lucid dreams, representations of your

In lucid dreams, representations of your fears weren't supposed to actually BE your fears, right? Fears could not be physical beings. They were just feelings... right?

The Clown, agreed with me. "You do have a point there Bucko! In this dream, I am but a figment of your fear of adulthood." Then he smiled with needle sharp teeth, "or maybe not."

I blinked and the clown blinked with me. "So much for that pep talk," I said, turning away from the mirror. There was an ad in the classifieds for an ice cream truck driver.

I don't know what happened next. So much blood. This...this presence inside of me. Ever since I had been bitten by that irradiated clown, I had been...changing. I didn't know who I

was anymore. All I knew anymore was the sound the GODDAMNED sound of a red nose honking, The Clown Syndrome quickly spread to my lungs, and I coughed up enough balloon animals to

supply a whole party of kids. I sneezed and water squirted out of my nose. It turned bright red and my hair started becoming multicoloured. I tripped on my overly large feet and

fell into a large hole. FINALLY AWAY FROM THAT HELL. I rejoiced inside the deep hole I was going to die in.

It was measured to be about 6 feet diameter. There were four local men trying to rescue me with a rope. They finally pulled me out. This took six hours.

I was running out of fingers and toes to keep track of the number of numbers that were stacking up here towards the end of the story. Making their way to the 10th and final fold. I

t seemed there was nothing left to do but to fling ourselves on the mercy of our fellow Folders. Is 10 really a '10' in the Bo Derek sense, or is it just The End? Which is worse?