A gaunt clown with red-painted lips applied.
“We need freaks!” Schmidt insisted, dismissing him. “Not jokers!”
But the following morning, the clown returned.
“I told you,” Schmidt again shooed him away, “we want freaks!”
That night, Alfred Schmidt awoke with a shiver. The clown leered inches from his face.
“Nice room,” the clown rasped, glancing around the camper. He smiled hungrily at Schmidt, razor-sharp teeth stretching from ear to ear. “But I’d like to try the board.”