Wait, what happened to Suzie?

Suzie shook her fist at the boy clown, who blew her a mocking kiss. It was all his fault. She'd been having a shower to wash off all the custard he'd poured down her cleavage and into her underwear, when he'd snuck up on her and stolen all her clothes. So she'd had to chase him round and round the meadow in nothing but a small pink bath towel, which kept threatening to slip off in front of all the people that were watching them.

Why were boy clowns like this? All she wanted as a nice respectable girl clown was to pick flowers and sing songs and wash her hair and hang pictures on the walls, and do perfectly simple tasks like that. But every single time she tried to get anything done, a boy clown would appear out of nowhere and start playing stupid practical jokes on her. She knew she was an intelligent girl, but somehow the boy clown was always smarter than she was, and he always ended up tricking her out of her clothes.

It was very frustrating. But this time she was certain she was going to get him.

Something tickled the back of a brain, perhaps a distant sense that she'd been hypnotised by Miss Trickett and made to serve as a slapstick **** in an evil and probably demonic carnival for all eternity, but Susie pushed it aside. After all, knowing deep down that it was true would only make the torment worse. Better not to think about that kind of thing. She had a boy clown to catch!