The Creepy Clown Catacombs

"I don't like it in here."

"What do you mean?" Susie said, looking curiously at the corridors of the catacombs. They were carpeted with cartoons and caricatures of clowns. Creepy clowns, cool clowns, crazy clowns, clever clowns. Clowns in cars, clowns in coffins, clowns in cloaks, clowns in cunning contraptions. Everywhere she looked she saw the leering, grinning faces of clowns.

"It's only clowns," she said.

"I don't really like clowns," admitted Bonnie. "They creep me out."

"Why?"

"I don't know. They just do."

"Well, at least there are no real clowns," said Susie, as a clown in a white pierrot costume crept up behind Bonnie. It reached out and tapped Bonnie on the shoulder. She spun around, saw the clown standing there grinning at her, and slapped it as hard as she could in the face. It blinked in surprise and raised a hand to its cheek in puzzlement.

"You shouldn't have done that," said the house.

"Why not?" snapped Bonnie, still rattled. "Clowns shouldn't scare people like that!"

"You hurt a clown. So now you have to pass the test of the clowns. If you fail, your friend Susie will be **** to spend eternity... as a clown."

"Wait, what?" Bonnie spun around again, to see Susie in the grip of a pair of stern-looking lady clowns. She didn't have much time to think before the clown behind her grabbed her jeans and yanked them down around her ankles.

"The test of the clowns must be done with no pants on," explained the house.