Coco the Clown prided herself on being a purveyor of wholesome mirth. Her bright red nose wasn’t for honking terror into children’s hearts, but for blowing out birthday candles (imaginary ones, of course, because real fire and a big floppy shoe were a disaster waiting to happen). Her squirting flower trick only sprayed harmless glitter, the kind that shimmered pleasantly in the big top lights instead of leaving a trail of sticky, multi-colored goo.

However, Coco’s dedication to wholesome fun was constantly under siege by the revolving door of rogue clowns that plagued Big Top Bonanza. Last week, it was Barnaby “The Blind Baker,” whose pies invariably contained live pigeons instead of fruit filling. The week before, it was Mumbles the Mime, whose grand act involved him “trapping” an audience member in a giant invisible box, then “accidentally” knocking it over a toddler.

This week’s menace was Gus “The Gas Passer.” Coco first suspected trouble when Gus’s audition involved him setting a whoopie cushion on fire. Ringmaster Ricardo, a man whose optimism rivaled that of a goldfish swimming in piranha stew, simply declared, “Well, that’s certainly…unique!” and hired him on the spot.

Gus’s “unique” act involved a series of increasingly potent “whoopie cushions” strategically placed throughout the big top. The first few elicited nervous giggles, then gasps of horror as the stench reached nuclear levels. People began fanning themselves, then fleeing in a stampede that resembled a herd of startled elephants. Coco, dodging a rogue popcorn bucket, landed face-first in a pile of cotton candy.

As the dust settled, Coco stormed into Ricardo’s opulent (read: dusty red velvet curtains with a questionable leopard print rug) office. “Ricardo! That new clown is a walking biohazard!” she declared, extricating pink fluff from her hair.

Ricardo, nonchalantly polishing his monocle, shrugged. “But the audience reaction was… lively! We haven’t seen that kind of excitement since the time Sparky the Seal accidentally swallowed a kazoo.”

Coco sighed. Sparky the Seal’s kazoo incident involved a near-riot and a permanent ban on fish in the Big Top. “Look, Ricardo,” she pleaded, “we’re supposed to be a family circus! Not a clown-fueled apocalypse!”

Ricardo considered this for a moment, then grinned. “Hmm, ‘Clown-Fueled Apocalypse’ – catchy! Maybe that’s our new theme!”

Coco groaned. There was no reasoning with the man.

Determined to take matters into her own oversized shoes, Coco hatched a plan. She’d infiltrate the rogue clowns, learn their ways, and then, from within, expose their nefarious schemes. It was a risky operation, like a poodle entering a hyena den, but Coco was determined to restore Big Top Bonanza’s reputation as a haven of joy, not a breeding ground for chaos.

Her first target – Gus the Gas Passer. Coco donned a pair of Groucho Marx glasses and a fake mustache, dubbing herself “Griselda, the Gourmet Gurgler.” She infiltrated Gus’s trailer, a haven of questionable odors and rubber chickens. There, she discovered Gus’s secret weapon – a massive vat of bubbling, green concoction labeled “Super Duper Stink Bomb #11.”

Coco, with a mischievous glint in her eye, replaced Gus’s signature whoopie cushions with strategically placed whoopie balloons. Balloons, she reasoned, could hold the noxious gas but offer a more harmless (and possibly even festive) release.

The next day’s show arrived. Gus, oblivious, took his place on center stage. His first “whoopie cushion” resulted in a high-pitched squeak. The audience stared, confused. The second, a pathetic little toot. The third… well, the third resulted in a giant pink balloon inflating ominously over Gus’s head.

As the balloon grew, Gus’s face turned a comical shade of purple. The audience, initially bewildered, erupted in laughter. Coco, watching from the wings, felt a surge of triumphant glee. Gus, struggling to stay upright under the weight of the balloon, stumbled. The balloon, finally reaching its limit, popped with a loud BANG, showering Gus in a confetti of pink latex.

The audience roared with laughter. Gus, defeated and slightly sticky, mumbled something about quitting and stormed out.

Emboldened by her success, Coco continued her mission. She “borrowed” Barnaby’s “pies” and replaced them with delicious, albeit slightly lopsided, homemade ones (courtesy of her Grandma Gladys’s secret recipe). Mumbles the Mime? Coco “accidentally” knocked over a real box he was hiding in, revealing a terrified volunteer struggling to mime his way out.

Ricardo, initially confused by the sudden shift in “acts (but undeniably less chaotic ones), eventually caught on. He confronted Coco in his office, his expression a mix of suspicion and grudging respect.

“So, it was you all along?”

Coco, sporting a bandage from a “friendly” encounter with a rogue seal (Sparky’s replacement), grinned sheepishly. “Busted.”

Ricardo stroked his chin, a thoughtful frown replacing his usual grin. “You know, Coco, this… wholesome chaos… it’s bringing in the crowds.”

Coco blinked. “Wholesome chaos?”

Ricardo gestured dramatically. “Think about it! People are talking! They’re coming to see the Big Top Bonanza for its… unpredictability. Barnaby’s ‘surprise fillings’ became a local legend. Mumbles the Mime’s ‘accidental’ imprisonment gets a chuckle every time it’s mentioned.”

Coco considered this. The crowds were bigger, the laughter genuine (mostly). While not exactly what she envisioned, it worked. But there was still the issue of attracting actual talent, not troublemakers.

“So,” Coco said, “how about we hold auditions, but with actual vetting this time?”

Ricardo’s monocle nearly popped out. “Vetting? You mean, like… checking references? Requiring non-explosive props?”

Coco chuckled. “Something like that.”

News of the “new and improved” Big Top Bonanza spread like wildfire. Auditions were held, this time with background checks and a strict “no weaponized whoopie cushions” policy. A juggling trio called “The Misfit Muffins” replaced Gus, their act a delightful display of juggling mishaps that somehow (always) ended with a perfect finale. A trapeze artist who doubled as a contortionist, aptly named “The Human Knot,” replaced Mumbles.

Barnaby, surprisingly, cleaned up his act. Turns out, he was a whiz at baking (albeit with a penchant for unusual fillings). His “Mystery Pies” became a crowd favorite, a gamble on whether you’d get apple or anchovies.

The Big Top Bonanza thrived. Coco, no longer battling biohazards but bad puns from Ricardo, became a local celebrity. Her “wholesome chaos” had inadvertently created a unique brand of circus entertainment, one that embraced the unexpected while keeping the laughs (mostly) clean.

One sunny afternoon, as Coco watched the Misfit Muffins juggle flaming batons (a last-minute addition that somehow worked), a woman approached her. It was Grandma Gladys, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“So,” Gladys said, holding up a picnic basket, “care to try a slice of my ‘Surprise Surprise’ pie? I hear the clowns are missing a good whoopie cushion substitute.”

Coco groaned, but couldn’t help but smile. The Big Top Bonanza might not be a haven of pure, unadulterated joy, but with a dash of chaos, a sprinkle of Grandma’s “special” pies, and a whole lot of heart, it was a pretty darn good show.

The news of Big Top Bonanza’s “wholesome chaos” reached a surprising audience – a prestigious international clown academy. Intrigued by the concept, they dispatched their head instructor, the formidable Madame Le Grande, to assess this unorthodox circus.

Madame Le Grande was a stern woman with a perpetually arched eyebrow and a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a strangled goose. Coco, already nervous, nearly fainted when Ricardo announced her arrival.

“Coco,” Ricardo said, oblivious to her panic, “Madame Le Grande wants to see the Misfit Muffins’ flaming baton juggling act!”

Coco gulped. Flaming batons, while undeniably audience-pleasing, were a safety hazard just waiting to happen. “But Ricardo,” she stammered, “what if-“

“No buts, Coco!” Ricardo boomed, clapping her on the back. “This is our chance to get on the international circuit! Show Madame Le Grande what Bonanza is all about!”

Desperate, Coco huddled with the Misfit Muffins. “Look,” she said, “we can’t do the flaming batons. Not with Madame Le Grande here.”

Frankie, the perpetually frazzled leader of the trio, scratched his head. “But the batons are our big finale!”

Little Lucy, the fearless youngest member, piped up. “Don’t worry, Coco! We have a backup plan!”

Coco raised an eyebrow. This was news to her.

The performance tent buzzed with nervous energy. Madame Le Grande sat in the front row, her face an unreadable mask. The Misfit Muffins took their places, a trio of mismatched juggling pins in their hands. They started with a simple routine, then gradually increased the difficulty. Frankie, despite his constant state of panic, was a surprisingly skilled juggler.

Suddenly, Lucy reached into her pocket and pulled out… a handful of glow sticks?

Coco stared, utterly confused. But then, the unexpected happened. Lucy cracked the glow sticks, letting out a soft pop. Then, with a flourish, she tossed them into the air. They soared in a luminous arc, catching the light from the spotlights.

Frankie and the other member, Marvin, a quiet juggler with a surprising talent for mime, seamlessly incorporated the glow sticks into their routine. The pins and glowing sticks became a mesmerizing dance of light and color. The audience, initially surprised, gasped in delight. By the end, they were roaring with applause.

Madame Le Grande stood, a slow smile creeping across her face. It was the closest thing to a genuine laugh Coco had ever heard from her. “Well, Coco,” she boomed, her voice surprisingly warm, “that was unexpected. But undeniably entertaining. You’ve found a way to create chaos without cruelty, and that’s a rare and valuable thing.”

Coco beamed. Maybe, just maybe, wholesome chaos was the key to Big Top Bonanza’s success after all. Madame Le Grande’s visit wasn’t the only result of the newfound fame. Talent scouts flocked to the circus, drawn by the unique brand of entertainment. Coco found herself training a troupe of unicycling poodles (surprisingly good at it, once you got past the initial cuteness factor) and a mime who used invisible paint to create hilarious (and, thankfully, non-traumatic) audience participation.

However, the biggest change came from Ricardo. Inspired by the success of wholesome chaos, he finally ditched his dusty leopard print rug and replaced it with a bright, colorful one. He even started cracking jokes (mostly terrible, but Coco appreciated the effort).

One starlit evening, after a particularly successful show, Coco found herself standing next to Ricardo, watching the Misfit Muffins attempt to juggle flaming bowling pins (an idea that Coco had vetoed… for now).

“You know,” Ricardo said, breaking the comfortable silence, “this whole wholesome chaos thing might actually work.”

Coco chuckled. “You think?”

Ricardo smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, where else would I find a clown who can bake a pie so good, it could launch a career in international espionage?”

Coco stared at him, bewildered. “What pie are you talking about?”

Ricardo winked. “Grandma Gladys’ ‘Surprise Surprise,’ of course. Let’s just say, it gave Madame Le Grande a very… memorable experience on her flight back to Paris.”

Coco groaned, then couldn’t help but laugh. Big Top Bonanza might not be a traditional circus, but with a dash of chaos, a sprinkle of Grandma’s “special” pies, and a whole lot of heart, it was a place where laughter, in all its unexpected forms, truly reigned supreme. And with that Gus flouted a fragrant fart that all had to share.

The post I’ve Looked at Clowns from Both Sides Now first appeared on FunnyDesigns.com.