Honestly, none of this should even be a big deal. Regarding clowning, that is! Not killing.” Everyone that sees that sign says I should have made any other sign than that one, but until I get more gigs, I don’t have the kind of money needed for making another sign. Regardless, everyone that hears my name says I should have gone into any other profession than clowning, but that injury proved that I was destined to don the colorful wig, face makeup, and sign around my neck that says “I’m starting where the other Gacy left off. That was fate telling me I should be a clown. I could’ve gone pro if I hadn’t screwed up my hand learning how to properly pie someone in the face. It’s just filled with my old bowling trophies. It’s filled with too many memories that I prefer to avoid…Īnd by that, I don’t mean it’s haunted with the ghosts of the kids I’ve killed down there. Sure, I could probably learn if I spent more sleepless nights studying in my dark, dank basement clown training area, but I’m a little scared to go down there anymore. I wouldn’t know how to clown for a girl or a woman. Being a male, I only know what other males find funny. Yes, I only do boys’ birthday parties, and yes, John Wayne Gacy only killed boys and young men, but that’s not why I do them. I’m just like any non-murderous birthday clown. I say one chance because that’s all I need to show them what a great clown I am, not because I only need one chance to kill them. That’s where our similarities end, so please stop boycotting my services and give me one chance to entertain your children. I share a name with an infamous serial killer who also happened to be a children’s birthday clown like me.
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