Stanisław had nothing against clowns. Stanisław lived in his own world, and the clowns lived in the circus. And everything was fine. Some didn't bother others, and everyone was happy. And this could have gone on for decades if it weren't for the clown Śmieszek.
Well, the aforementioned clown made it a point of honor to improve Stanisław's mood [and such improvement wasn't necessary...], but let's start from the beginning.
The school year began, and Stanisław had to start teaching again at the local middle school. He wasn't particularly pleased with this, because the students were a bit resistant to knowledge, which is probably why he was a bit rude when the phone rang one October afternoon... "Excuse me
?" said Stanisław.
"Hey, friend! Are you happy?" he heard a shrill voice in the receiver.
"Get lost," he said, and hung up.
He hated it when idiots interrupted his television viewing.
If only he knew what he was condemning himself to...
The next day, around noon, someone rang the doorbell. Stanisław went to answer it and saw the clown. And not just any clown, but the realest of the realest clowns. He had a painted face and other clown-related things...
"Are you sad, my friend?" Stanisław asked bluntly.
"My vacuum cleaner still works," Stanisław slammed the door.
However, they taught Śmieszek such things in clown courses. He ran around the house and climbed in through an open window.
"Smile, please! It's such a beautiful day..." he didn't finish, as he was busy dodging a crossbow bolt flying at him.
Tough job... But Śmieszek wasn't the type to handle... This jerk would smile even if it meant killing him...
Stanisław couldn't waste a moment, as a raging clown was charging towards him. He rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a cleaver.
The clown ran in right behind him, glanced at the cleaver, then grabbed a jar from the table and raised it to face height to defend himself with it. He glanced at the jar's contents and then automatically dropped it, unused to being looked at with disgust.
"Don't worry!" Fred's rolling head screamed after the jar shattered. "I'm used to being treated like an object!"
Stanisław charged. He raised the cleaver and struck where the clown was. Or at least, where he had been a moment before. Surprised, he began to spin, but the clown's muscular arms had already knocked the cleaver from his hand and knocked him to the ground.
"Smile, damn it!" the clown screamed, slamming Stanisław's head against the floor.
A moment later, the clown yelled several very vulgar words. He released Stanisław and began running around the table, waving his arms. His head was clinging to his back, clinging to him with his teeth.
"What a mess!" Fred muttered through his teeth.
A moment later, the clown was hit over the head with an empty bottle, after which Stanisław picked him up, carried him to the basement, and sat him in an armchair.
"Oh, it's a good thing I have this tartan armchair..." he sighed to himself, grabbed a large jar just right for Fred's head, then went upstairs and hummed an old song, "Let's all drink to the death of a clown..
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