It walks among us.
I remember him now as he was then, crimson-mouthed.
Like the lion I had seen on wild kingdom the night before. A red mouthed killer who had just feasted on the innocent. A predator who lied dormant until his brut strength killed a much cuter animal. The monster towered over the screaming babies that surrounded him on all sides. The ones forced to do whatever he said. In this arena he would be the one to tell them what to do. He would call the shots. They sometimes cried but, mostly they screamed.
His dark teeth flashed beneath that stained mouth. Skin pale like the monsters I saw on the Saturday afternoon Fright-Fest. His eyes, like Lugosi’s, black and soulless. When he spoke the voice seemed like it mocked humanity. A monster with the ability to charm children with his voice. To captivate and entrance them.
Those who were seen in his presence never returned.
I would watch morning after morning and once you had seen the children you’d never see them again especially if you were chosen.
Chosen to perform a trick for him.
The one trick I recall being the most cruel was “The Balloon.” He would select his victim from the pack and draw the child to the center of the ring. There magically were several floating balloons. Beautiful balloons. The ones you would ask your mother to tie tightly to your wrist as not to have it float away like the one before it. The same type of balloon you learned will not survive if it hit the grass after you punch it. The same balloon you wanted to keep safe for as long as possible. The one you would hope would stay afloat forever. He would hand the victim one of the longest sharpest needles I have ever seen. Why are there needles in the world made that large? For what reason? He would tell them to select one of the balloons and force the child to pop the one that was chosen. I still to this day cannot see how you can pick something to be destroyed. AHH but he found a way to convince them to pop the balloon. The demon would tell the child that inside the balloon MAY be a wonderful prize.
It’s a trap!
Everyone knows balloons are filled with air! The demon explained: If you pop it and a card comes out you are given the fabulous prize written on the card. With that the child chose and popped a balloon. The looks on the faces as they thrust the needle would be the same look as an adult pulling a trigger for the first time. As the monster flashes his dark teeth the child winches and thrusts the needle. A horrible act committed for greed. Sometimes a card would fall and the kid would be handed a spirograph and sometimes they were sent “away” with nothing. Either way the children never returned.
Ever.
I hated him. I hated him for what he did to those kids. I don’t know what it was but it must have been horrible. They NEVER CAME BACK!
His voice is what I remember most. That sickly sweet voice. The voice I now associate with pedophiles and child murderers.
A few years ago I worked for a post production house in Hollywood. That facility had a commissary where they would serve lunch to clients and the poor saps who were forced to work thru lunch to appease the whims of these clients. It was a normal day. I was getting my salad and diet coke when I heard "that" voice.
IN THE ROOM.
Not in my head as I had heard for so many years. That voice was the narrator of my nightmares. It was real, and in the same room as me.
I knew that voice. I knew instantly it was the monster. The demon. The killer of children. The baby eater.
I wanted to scream. I turned and saw the voice coming out of a kindly, living human. That was more than I could handle. To know that the monster is among us freely was overwhelming. He could have been right next to me at anytime in my life and stabbed me with that giant sewing needle and eaten my bleeding insides.
If he just stayed quite I’d never know it was him.
I know now.
I’ve seen his face.
I know the monsters true face and his name.
He calls himself Larry Harmon.
The world knows him as BOZO : The Clown.
I would, one day, like to write him and tell him how much his show frightened me and colored my perception of the world but this post will have to do for now. If you know Larry and want to send him to this page I’d like to hear what he has to say for himself. Please do not have him call.
Like the lion I had seen on wild kingdom the night before. A red mouthed killer who had just feasted on the innocent. A predator who lied dormant until his brut strength killed a much cuter animal. The monster towered over the screaming babies that surrounded him on all sides. The ones forced to do whatever he said. In this arena he would be the one to tell them what to do. He would call the shots. They sometimes cried but, mostly they screamed.
His dark teeth flashed beneath that stained mouth. Skin pale like the monsters I saw on the Saturday afternoon Fright-Fest. His eyes, like Lugosi’s, black and soulless. When he spoke the voice seemed like it mocked humanity. A monster with the ability to charm children with his voice. To captivate and entrance them.
Those who were seen in his presence never returned.
I would watch morning after morning and once you had seen the children you’d never see them again especially if you were chosen.
Chosen to perform a trick for him.
The one trick I recall being the most cruel was “The Balloon.” He would select his victim from the pack and draw the child to the center of the ring. There magically were several floating balloons. Beautiful balloons. The ones you would ask your mother to tie tightly to your wrist as not to have it float away like the one before it. The same type of balloon you learned will not survive if it hit the grass after you punch it. The same balloon you wanted to keep safe for as long as possible. The one you would hope would stay afloat forever. He would hand the victim one of the longest sharpest needles I have ever seen. Why are there needles in the world made that large? For what reason? He would tell them to select one of the balloons and force the child to pop the one that was chosen. I still to this day cannot see how you can pick something to be destroyed. AHH but he found a way to convince them to pop the balloon. The demon would tell the child that inside the balloon MAY be a wonderful prize.
It’s a trap!
Everyone knows balloons are filled with air! The demon explained: If you pop it and a card comes out you are given the fabulous prize written on the card. With that the child chose and popped a balloon. The looks on the faces as they thrust the needle would be the same look as an adult pulling a trigger for the first time. As the monster flashes his dark teeth the child winches and thrusts the needle. A horrible act committed for greed. Sometimes a card would fall and the kid would be handed a spirograph and sometimes they were sent “away” with nothing. Either way the children never returned.
Ever.
I hated him. I hated him for what he did to those kids. I don’t know what it was but it must have been horrible. They NEVER CAME BACK!
His voice is what I remember most. That sickly sweet voice. The voice I now associate with pedophiles and child murderers.
A few years ago I worked for a post production house in Hollywood. That facility had a commissary where they would serve lunch to clients and the poor saps who were forced to work thru lunch to appease the whims of these clients. It was a normal day. I was getting my salad and diet coke when I heard "that" voice.
IN THE ROOM.
Not in my head as I had heard for so many years. That voice was the narrator of my nightmares. It was real, and in the same room as me.
I knew that voice. I knew instantly it was the monster. The demon. The killer of children. The baby eater.
I wanted to scream. I turned and saw the voice coming out of a kindly, living human. That was more than I could handle. To know that the monster is among us freely was overwhelming. He could have been right next to me at anytime in my life and stabbed me with that giant sewing needle and eaten my bleeding insides.
If he just stayed quite I’d never know it was him.
I know now.
I’ve seen his face.
I know the monsters true face and his name.
He calls himself Larry Harmon.
The world knows him as BOZO : The Clown.
I would, one day, like to write him and tell him how much his show frightened me and colored my perception of the world but this post will have to do for now. If you know Larry and want to send him to this page I’d like to hear what he has to say for himself. Please do not have him call.
posted by Gavin Elster at 8:08 PM
7 Comments:
It's worse than you think. BOZO ROBOTS ARE ABOUT TO INVADE OUR EARTH: http://www.robotfactory.com/bozo.htm
Is this Larry Harmon insane?
Why would anyone need a bozo robot? Dear god and this is from his offical site too. I guess I should send him a letter. Nows a good a time as any.
I E-mailed him. His show was a catalyst for many fears I still have yet to work on.
NOW HE KNOWS WHERE YOU ARE.
I gave him your e-mail and said my name was Andy.
uh, that balloon trick; I remember it but not a vividly as you do. I do remember those disgusting baggy blue petroleum product pants.
Larry is Bozo the Clown. Isn't that enough punishment for a pervert?
I have learned that Larry does not read his e-mail. It is a younger relative who does that work. Like a grand-neice or something like that. I doubt I'll hear from him. I feel better now I've made the attempt to tell him how scary he is to me and that his show left nothing but scars.
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