Slutty Clown From Outer Space

Damn! The galaxy was almost saved from the threat of clowns once and for all. Your people were swept away as if some merciful deity at long last took notice of your people's sins purged them from the galaxy. The many sundry species, on so many worlds, could rest in peace knowing that your pale, goofy threat was vanquished once in for all. Alas. You, horrible you, managed to escape.

The stars are filled with many brave and noble species. Warriors, great thinkers, explorers, and adventures. Clowns are none of those things. They are fools, jesters, and buffoons. They create nothing, except ever more humiliating and horrible ways to satirize the planets they conquer. A clown has never made a discovery, except perhaps a new planet to transform and terrorize. They are parasites, a disease, which spreads from planet to planet turning them from prosperous capitals of civilization to nonsensical circuses.

Clowns may have had a true form, eons ago. It's possible that what we know of them now are descendants of a true species, but this is no longer the case. Clowns now exist as a plague that infects species, transforming them into bizarre versions of their former selves. In general, beings that become infected by a clown develop white greasy skin, which develops bright markings across the face resembling makeup. Their nose and other bodyparts engorge, and become round and rubber-like, also changing into bright colors. Their feet and hands enlarge most commonly, but clowns are known to take plenty of creative liberty when redesigning a host's body. Once infected a host doesn't just turn physically into a clown, but their mental state changes as well. The infected become caricatures of their former selves, growing dumber, and giddier as the infection spreads. They become laughing idiots, concerned only with making fools of themselves, infecting others, and sex.

The means by which clowns spread their curse is a mystery dozens of doomed worlds have tried to solve before their worlds devolved into senseless orgies. The most frustrating trait the curse holds, is that it affects inanimate objects as well as organic beings. Concrete and metal, when infected become like rubber. Before their destruction many clown worlds were filled with cities whose skyscrapers waved in the wind like trees, filled with clowns who rolled around and fell with the movements of their buildings. The closest anyone has come to figure out the curse, is that clowns tap into some extra-dimensional energy source, call it whimsy. This energy source allows them to rewrite matter to match their profane desires. Though creative ways to transfer the curse do appear from time to time, the constant is touch. Interaction with a person or object infected by a clown almost always leads to conversion.

Perhaps the people of Earth should take joy, in knowing that at the very least some carnivorous race of dinosaurs aren't heading towards their planet. Maybe as they devolve into drooling, uncoordinated idiots, and living jokes they'll take joy in knowing that they aren't being melted by the acid of some insectile queen. As society falls around them, and their proud history comes to an end, at least the human race was if nothing else, worth a laugh or two.