Imbecile

The slow preparation process always drives you mad. There is plenty of time for nerves in this half hour in which you progressively stop having the appearance and the intrinsic dignity of a normal person. The greasy makeup that your partner applies with their fingers, the exaggerated painted smile, the big red nose, the wig, the extremely baggy and bright-colored clothes, the oversized shoes… you look in the mirror and struggle to recognize your usual self beneath the grotesque clown staring back at you. The first steps are insecure, hesitant, and you feel like you’re floating in the clothing. It’s just a character, you think with a mental shrug. Time for the show!

It's your turn to tell a predictably silly joke, in the nasal voice typical of the character (and even a bit more strained due to this damn big red nose):

"Why did the invisible man turn down the job offer?... Because he couldn't see himself in that company!"

You notice yourself blushing moment by moment. No one laughs, except for the other clown, who seems to enjoy your embarrassment with a loud guffaw. You confront him, and with an annoyed tone, you shoot back:

"Hey, if it's so easy to make people laugh, why don’t you try it!"

I nod slowly, and with a wry smile, I reveal what I had hidden behind my back: a metal mold overflowing with meringue, at least a foot deep. You swallow hard, you know very well what’s coming next, but you continue with the act. With a cocky demeanor and your fists at your sides, you lean slightly and ask the fateful question:

"And how do you want to make people laugh with a cake, dimwit?"

I approach slowly, still smiling from ear to ear. The gloved hand holding the cake stops just a few centimeters from your face, then pulls back slightly to gain momentum towards you. Making a surprised face and forming an "o" with your lips comes quite naturally, even though it's also part of the performance.

The cake hits your face like a sticky explosion, and everything goes dark. A burst of laughter erupts - is it real or imagined? - and at this point, it’s very hard to believe they are laughing with you and not at you.

For the umpteenth time, you ask yourself how you got roped into this…