"Jesus Christ, look at the lot’a’ya. I’ve seen some pretty fucked up freaks in my day but you cocksuckers take the upside down cake. Alright, alright, calm down, I didn’t mean anything by it; just that you’re ugly is all. Oh don’t be a bunch of pussies! You’ve been called a lot worse things than ugly and you know it! But, I digress.
"Mr. Fuller here has recently brought me onto his staff and asked that I take a moment of my highly valuable time to introduce myself to you and explain what it is I’ll be doing. The name’s Dick: Dick C. Normus and…
"Yes, that’s my real name, and it’s a hell of a lot more dignified than whatever clown moniker you ended up with. Am I wrong? What’s your name big nose? Tinkles? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Oh, I beg your pardon, ‘Doctor’ Tinkles. That just makes it more ridiculous you ass hat.
"Anyway, you can call me Dicksy and I’ll call you whatever the fuck I feel like considering most of you are essentially indentured servants. I’ll be…oh my fuck, I already told you it’s my real name! Why would I lie? Stop your damn snickering! You all have the maturity of a bunch of grade school dropouts because surprise surprise, that’s what you are, excepting of course the esteemed Doctor Tinkles. You know, getting a PhD at a clown college kind of proves you’re an idiot, which is the opposite of what you want a PhD to do.
"Moving on to the matter of why I’m here; none of you are good enough. Okay, okay, pipe down. I said pipe down. SHUT UP! All I mean is that Mr. Fuller here has standards, and that you freaks aren’t living up to them. No, no, don’t worry, none of you are being kicked out or axed yet. It will take years to make enough replacements for everyone. Mr. Fuller has hired me to make designer freaks, and I’m eyeballing you Clowns in particular. I’ve got a lot of ideas of what I can do with you sad sacks of shit.
"Now you may be wondering, ‘what are my credentials to play god so glibly’, though not as well articulated because you’re all dumb as stumps. Well you see, I come from a long line of Child Breakers, or Comprachicos, as they say in Spanish. What’s a Child Breaker you ask? I know none of you said anything, I was being rhetorical! As I was saying, you start by taking a child. Maybe some starving street urchin who’s never had anyone to look after them, maybe a brat that’s so spoilt rotten they have no idea what suffering really is. It don’t really matter, but once you pick a kid you break every bone in their body, beat them within an inch of their life, and you set the bones and flesh to heal the way you want them to, add a little anomalous something-something, rinse and repeat as necessary until you got yourself a bona fide freak. Then you take the worthless, broken shell of a person and shove them out on stage to be leered and gawked at by complete strangers so that they will know they’re not Human anymore, that they’ll never be loved or accepted by society again, and their only hope to keep their wretched lives is to keep exhibiting themselves for your personal profit. Now that’s comedy!
"But, that was the old way of doing things. As fun as it was, it has limitations. A person can only be mutilated so much before they can't take no more and they kick the bucket on you, though you'd be surprised at how much the body can take. My Grampie once turned a kid inside out, I shit you not. What are you throwing up for? It wasn't disgusting, it was a work of art you philistine! Don't worry if it makes you queasy, because that's all in the past. Breeding a freak so that they grow up into a monster to begin with allows for much more radical modifications than breaking a normal kid.
"I’ve got some ideas for creating some truly horrific abominations, and that’s what I need you Clowns for. Mr. Fuller tells me he picked up the first of you whilst he was traipsing across the Multiverse, and as amazing as your talents are you require certain…interventions to be made show ready. Those interventions don’t always work so sometimes you go all Pennywise on the audience. Yeah, Pennywise, that’s what I said. Pennywise is the clown from IT you numbskull. IT by Stephen King. Oh you guys are just fucking with me now. How can literally no one here have heard of IT?
"Never mind. It’s not important. Not important. What’s important is that you originals can sometimes be quite the liability, so Fuller tells me he let you start experimenting on runaways to see if you could convert Humans into Clowns. That’s pretty fucked up, though I’m obviously in no position to judge.
"For the sake of comparison, let’s just take a look at a converted Clown. One of you stand up. Yeah, you. Well hello nurse! What’s your name sweetheart? Icky? Is that supposed to be ironic because you’re the only Clown here that’s fuckable? What, it's a compliment. You know, unlike your fine self my name is not a misnomer. Trust me, it's enormous. Don't believe me, just take a look at this tent I'm pitching. That's only at half-mast. You don't think this is real? If you want I'll whip it out in front of everyone and…
"Yes Mr. Fuller, I apologize. I’ve gone off topic. Returning to the matter of…what were we talking about? Comparative clowning, right. Honestly, so much blood goes into my cock it's a damn miracle I don't pass out. Any who, you’ll note how a converted Clown such as Icky retains a much more Human appearance relative to the original Clowns. Though this may come with the benefit of a more manageable temper, as far as Mr. Fuller and I are concerned it's still a step in the wrong direction. We want Clowns that are even more amazing than the originals, without any of the violence, and while we're at it a hell of a lot dumber. I know I said you guys was dumb, but you're still too smart for your own good, you know? I'm thinking something closer to a dog's intelligence level would be great. Smart enough to learn tricks, but too dumb to bitch about Mr. Fuller's, shall we say, Victorian-era management style.
"How am I going to create such perfect freaks of nature you ask? Two words; selective breeding.
"What’s with all the blank faces; no one ever explained the birds and the bees to you? It’s real simple; you take a mommy and a daddy that each has traits you like and get them to mate. You do the same thing with the offspring you like and cull the rejects, or if you're the sentimental type you can neuter them and send 'em off to a good home. After a few generations you got yourself a bona fide pedigree. Pedigree Clowns, how does that sound? Fancy, right?
"Aw, there you go again. What the hell are you talking about, you have rights and dignity? Dignity? You’re delusional or you’ve never seen yourself in a mirror. You’re Clowns for fuck sakes! You don’t have dignity! You have giant shoes and tiny cars, but not dignity! Mr. Fuller, do these losers or any of the other schmucks you own have rights and/or dignity? No? Didn’t think so.
"But you can all cool your jets, because that’s not how I’m going to do it with you anyway. It takes too goddamn long. No no no, I have something a little more sophisticated in mind. I know this is a dumb question before I ask it, but do any of you know what iterated embryo selection is? Nobody? What about you Doctor Tinkles, did that Ivy League education of yours not cover designer babies? I have in my possession some rather advanced reprogenetic paratechnology that was generously, and unknowingly, donated by the fine folks at Prometheus Labs. With this equipment I can make a bunch of test tube babies, read their genomes and pick the ones I want, then turn their stem cells into sex cells and make a whole new generation of embryos. The old generation goes in the trash, and you start all over.
"I’ll be using your fun-lovers as brood mares for the final product. What, would you rather I use your own lady clowns, cause I don't use real dames for breeding no more. It's too much of a goddamn nightmare getting the babies away from them. I've even had a few run off on me, and what I'm making here is far too valuable to risk losing. Fun-lovers are the best option, trust me. They don't give a shit about their kids once they pop out, they're not going to leave the Circus, and best of all they produce plenty of Milk. I wish to God it came out of tits instead of…that, but otherwise they're perfect.
"This method is at least a hundred times faster than traditional selective breeding, and I will be able to accomplish truly amazing things. This Circus will be unrecognizable when I’m done with it. And yet, I can already see that I have some detractors. What, you have a moral objection to what I’m doing? You’re all a bunch of bible thumpers all of a sudden? You’re a horde of unholy eyesores! Your god hates you!
"I don’t have the right to use your genetic material without your consent? We’ve already established that you don’t have rights! I have Fuller’s consent, that’s all I fucking need! You got a problem with that, feel free to grab your bindle and hit the road. Give my regards to the Skippy Foundation or, god help you, those goddamn global occult nazi bastards. Any takers? Hmmm? That’s what I thought.
"Look, it ain’t that bad. For now all you have to do is spit in a tube and once I go over your DNA and other records I’ll get those of you with the traits I’m looking for to hand over your sex cells. Gents get to jerk off into a cup, ladies get a dose of synthetic hormones and a giant needle shoved up their cooch. Ain’t that just the way of the world though?
"What are you taking about? What do you mean that’s not how it works with Clowns? I…uh-huh, really? Look, whatever. I obviously need to brush on my Clown biology, but rest assured that when the time comes I will be collecting the required biological materials via the appropriate method. It’s not something I’m looking forward too, except maybe for you Sticky Icky.
"Yes Mr. Fuller, I realize that’s not what you pay me for. I’m not going to mangle your merchandise I just…You’re going to have Tinkles do the actual collecting? Is that top hat cutting off the circulation to your brain? He’s a fucking Clown! I’m the expert here you sorry excuse for a Ringling Brothers themed birthday party, and if I say any part of this operation requires me to handle it personally than I…Fuller, tell your body guard to sit back down. Tell him to sit down. Just hold on one second there buddy I was just…hey! Get your filthy mitts off me you upside down faced goon! Put me down! Oh, I’m glad we’re taking this outside, you don’t scare me! I’ve taken down bigger maroons than you. Do you all hear that! I ain’t scared of none of you freaks! Fuck you, you can’t treat me like this!
"I’M RICHARD CUNNILINGUS NORMUS!"