The tiny car appeared out of nowhere, right in front of me, and screeched
to a halt. I slammed on my brakes as clowns piled out of it, bringing rush
hour traffic to a standstill. One, two, three...dear Lord, how many were
there? ...nine, ten, eleven. As each one popped out, it strode through the
honking cars like a heron wading through pond scum...seventeen, eighteen,
nineteen. At about thirty-two, I lost count. And still they kept coming.

One stopped at a station wagon the next lane over. Producing a balloon out
of the air, the clown deftly pinched and rolled. Within seconds it held a purple balloon kitten in its hands. "How do they do that?" I muttered. All around me each clown was stationed at a car, pinching and rolling balloons. A colorful menagerie seemed to spring up in an instant. I wondered why I didn't have a clown.

At the station wagon in the next lane, the driver rolled down his window and accepted the kitten. The clown capered in obvious delight. With a flick of its fingers a large pin appeared in its hand. It thrust the pin into the balloon. As the balloon popped the station wagon burst into flames. Terrified, I watched as each car around me combusted, one by one.

I scanned for some way through the inferno, but my attention settled on the clown car. One last clown was struggling to emerge, its boat-like shoe caught in the window. Our eyes met and I knew that this clown was meant for me. It yanked its foot free.

I threw my truck into gear and slammed the accelerator to the floor. The tires squealed, and my truck leapt forward like a scalded cat. I flattened that clown as I roared over it.

The clowns have been after me ever since.