There’s a parable between us clowns that’s been told for generations, as to the birth of our god.
200,000 years ago, when the first modern humans appeared, a homo sapien slowly trudged through the forest
He used to be beloved by his tribe because he played the part of the fool. He let others mock and laugh at him over this illusion of incompetence. Their laughter was like music to his ears, proof of his contribution to the heart of his tribe.
One day, a rival tribe appeared and killed each and every one of them, sparing the fool who begged for his life, promising endless entertainment. They laughed at him, and their laughter too, was music to his ears.
Skinned and dripping in blood, he walked through the frozen tundra, every muscle fiber and exposed nerves subjected to the harsh coldness of the wilderness.
When he collapsed, and death became so near, he used his final breath to laugh. He laughed on and on until tears started rolling down his cheeks. Noticing his tears, he started laughing again. Day and night, the dying man laughed until an audience of beasts surrounded him, laughing at him and with him.
Of course, the laughter of the hungry beasts was like music to him too.
Now, let me ask you…
Do you believe in clowns?
— RPC-571: The God of Flayed Clowns
