[disorder]

There once was a young man who loved the circus. Throughout all his childhood, he had loved the clowns, big tents, acrobats, the animals, the ring master. But this young man had never been to the circus. He had only heard about it from family and friends. The circus had never been to his town, and he could not afford to go to a big city to see a traveling circus. But one day, the young man was reading a newspaper with his breakfast as usual, and out of the blue, something caught his eye. The circus was coming to his town! The young man was so excited, he could not sleep. He counted down the days on his calendar until finally, the day came. The circus had arrived. The man rushed to his car, but he realised he'd almost forgotten his ticket, so he rushed back inside to fetch it. Then he drove to the big top, eagerly anticipating the culmination of all his childhood dreams. He had a front row seat, right in the heart of the action. He was so excited, he could not wait for the show to start. And when it did, the man was gobsmacked. It was better than anything he could have expected. He loved every minute of it. But there was a part he wanted to see more than anything else. The clowns. This circus' clown had a reputation for being the funniest in all the land. The clown looked around the audience looking for a ripe target, and before long he found one. By amazing coincidence, it was the man, who had been waiting all his life for this moment. And the young man was overjoyed when he managed to capture the clown's attentions. The clown stopped, waddled over, doing a little funny dance. Everyone giggled. The spotlight came down over the clown as he walked to the edge of the ring. He paused, and peered at the man, then glared knowingly at the audience. There was a long silence. The man was on the edge of his seat, thrilled by what the clown might say to him. Finally the clown said "Are you the back end of an ass?" The man was a bit taken aback. This wasn't quite what he was expecting. But he was still excited, and wanted to hear what would come next. So he replied, "No". The clown stared at him, and placed his hands on his hips, then lifted a hand to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully. "Are you the front end of an ass?" asked the clown, glaring at the man. The man again was quite surprised, and by this point was beginning to wonder where this was leading. He hesitated, before answering again. "No, no I’m not." The clown leaned forward. And then looked round at the audience, everyone on tenterhooks, waiting for the clown's response. "Well then," said the clown. "You must be no end of an ass!" And with that, the tent came alive with shrieks of laughter. The whole audience was in stitches, and so was the clown, in fact, everyone was, but with one exception. The spotlight remained on the man, his mouth agape. He had just been utterly humiliated. A lone teardrop rolled down his cheek. The man burst into tears. His childhood dreams had been shattered, his idol, his role model, the very thing he adored most in the world, had just made a complete fool of him. The man drove home and collapsed on his bed, shivering and crying for hours on end. He slowly sank into an extreme depression, he was unable to work, lost all his friends, his social life, the ones he loved.

Many years later, the man was still not the same as before. He had lost his lust for life, and nothing seemed to matter to him any more. He even attempted suicide. For the man's dreams and one true love had been destroyed in that split second, and his life was ruined. More months passed. The man grew increasingly resentful. He wanted to get revenge for what the clown had done to him. He relived the events over and over in his head, trying to think what he could have done differently. Eventually, the opportunity the man was waiting for arrived. The circus was coming to town again. The man, still distraught by his first encounter all those years ago, determined that the best way to overcome his depression would be to face the source of his torment once again. He put on his shoes, got in his car and drove to the circus once more. He had bought a front row ticket once again, almost in the same position as before. Once again, the other events of the show passed by without incident, and for a short while, the man could forget about his troubles, and just enjoy the spectacle. But then the clown came again. And it was the same clown. He looked a fair bit older, but as soon as he set eyes upon him, the man recognised him immediately. The clown did a few tricks, but then he decided to turn upon the audience once more. At first the clown wandered to the opposite side of the ring, but then slowly made his way back toward where the man was sitting. He was about to call upon another member of audience when suddenly he saw something in the corner of his eye. The same man from all those years ago. The clown could not pass this up. He strolled over to the man once again, and the man looked straight back at the clown.

The spotlight came down over the clown as he walked to the edge of the ring. He paused, and peered at the man, then glared knowingly at the audience. There was a long silence. The man was on the edge of his seat, eager to get back at the clown for what he'd said all those years before. Finally the clown said "Are you the back end of an ass?" It was happening all over again. But the man, despite his planning, was paralysed. It must have been the heat of the spotlight, the atmosphere of the audience, or perhaps just the clown, the same clown, looking straight into his eyes. The man didn't know what to do. He had no control over what he was about to say. All he could do was reply, "No". The clown stared at him, and placed his hands on his hips, then lifted a hand to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully. "Are you the front end of an ass?" asked the clown, glaring at the man. The man still could not think of anything else to say. The same thing that happened before was happening now. The man seized up in fear. "No, no I’m not." The clown leaned forward. And then looked round at the audience, everyone on tenterhooks, waiting for the clown's response. "Well then," said the clown. "You must be no end of an ass!" And with that, the tent came alive with shrieks of laughter once again. The whole audience was in stitches, and so was the clown, in fact, everyone was, but with one exception. The spotlight remained on the man, his mouth agape. He was reliving his nightmare, and this time it was worse. He had known what was coming and he had no power to stop it. A lone teardrop rolled down his cheek. The man burst into tears. After the culmination of all his suffering, and his chance to exact revenge, the man failed in his mission. He drove home and collapsed on his bed, shivering and crying for hours on end.

20 years later. The man was an old man, a soulless husk of his former self, so scarred by what had happened that he could barely speak. This time he was going to kill himself for sure. He decided he would drink himself to death. He drove to a pub, not his local, but one as far away from home as he could find. He sat down at the bar, and began to drown his sorrows, this time, for good. He glanced around the room woefully, looking at all the smiling faces and laughter of the patrons. A man sitting a few stools away was watching him. He began to pity the man, this poor old man, drowning himself in drink. He shifted his seat, moving adjacent to the old man. After a few failed attempts to break the ice and start a conversation, the old man eventually got himself drunk enough to reply to the stranger. He confessed what he had told no-one over all these years. He told his whole story, about his childhood, the clown, his depression, and enduring the same torment 20 years ago. The stranger sympathized, but then he smiled. "I may have an answer for you." He began to whisper to the man. "I happen to know of a very special thing. A scathing retort that can be used that's so perfect, so powerful, that not even the wittiest, most cunning clown of them all could muster a reply." The old man's ears perked up. Could what he be hearing be true? Was there something he could say to the clown and finally get him back after a lifetime of misery? The man shook his head. "I can't do it," he sighed. "It'll just happen again, I couldn't take that." The stranger patted the old man on the back. "Okay," he said, "Why don't I come with you, and then I can tell him this scathing insult, so you don't have to?" The man looked at the stranger, his eyes glistening with hope. Here was his chance to get even. So they shook hands, exchanged numbers, and parted company. Until the circus returned to town.