There exists a clown who plays with knives and swords. So dexterous and fearless is he that he can swallow these tools of death with nary an injury. But one day the clown becomes too cocky. He tosses a claymore skyward and swallows it whole. The massive blade runs through the clown, emerging from his backside. He is stuck to the ground.
The clown’s friend, a wolf, panics. He sees the fear in the clown’s eyes. The music in the background swells beautifully, highly appropriate for the harrowing situation. No matter how hard the wolf tugs on the sword, he cannot pull it from the clown’s body. Clearly there is only one solution: tie the clown’s legs to poles hammered into the ground, tie the sword to a truck’s bumper and rip it out with sheer horsepower. Unfortunately, this brilliant plot goes awry. The clown is dragged all around the circus until finally the truck crashes. The sword is magically loosened from the clown’s body, but he is furious.
The clown must have vengeance.
He chases the wolf around the circus grounds, fretfully hacking away, hoping to lop off a limb or two. The wolf desperately leaps into the air, hoping to get away, but it is then that the clown sees his opportunity. He opens his mouth wide and positions himself under the wolf, who tries to flail out of the way but is sucked into the clown’s gaping maw. Inside the clown’s stomach is a lonely pit of despair. The clown’s mouth is the only source of light, the tiniest sliver of salvation.
The wolf tries to climb out, but this serves only to infuriate the clown. He tosses the sword into the air once again and drives it through his mouth and into his stomach, piercing it through the wolf as well. The clown is stuck in place again, but he is satisfied with his bloody revenge.