Killing Time With Mr. Giggles

Everyone loves a haunted maze. You grab your closest friends and prepare to get just a little bit closer as you navigate dark corners, strange rooms, and pitch black hallways that always feature one or two maniacal, masked monsters waiting to scare the bejesus out of you. But what you may not realize is that those twisted clowns have feelings too. Sometimes they’re sensitive. Sometimes they’re a little gruff from taking it on the chin—or in the groin or the kneecaps—every Halloween. Then you’ve got this guy.

“Let’s just say I’m more Circus of Fear meets Pogo the Clown than Krusty.”

Awesome crazy clown vibe you’ve got going on. The whole “worst nightmare” meets “anything can happen” look is becoming. You suit the sinister side to Escape: All Hallows’ Eve.
Why so condescending? Sounds like phony BS to me. So I’ve got bigger shoes than you, and I’m a balding, middle-aged man with crackled paint on his face, and my tongue hangs out of my mouth and my wife makes my clothes. She used freaking doilies for my shirt collar, for Christ’s sake.

No, really. Halloween is my favorite holiday. I love your costume; it’s scary as hell. You’re no Ronald McDonald.
Not a costume, dummy. Have you ever seen a guy like this in jeans and a T-shirt? But okay, I’m glad you approve of my attire. Shows like this get me in the mood—I love childlike environments like this, where your worst nightmares can in fact come true, and anything is possible. Brings out the laughing, malevolent clown in me. What’s not to love? It’s better than The Greatest Show on Earth.

The attention to detail is spot on. Even the Headliners get into it. Last year, we had a tribe dressed as zombies walking around all night in character.
Zombies are overrated. They’re easily distracted; the dumbasses forget what they were doing a second ago. Old ladies move faster than they do. Put a group of them in a room together, and it’s comical. They can’t even open the door to get out. They just shuffle around, bumping into each other, groaning. And what’s up with their jaws not closing? Zombies! I’m all your nightmares rolled into one, your worst dream come true, and everything that ever scared you.

Would you rather frighten or amuse?
Fright is a bit of a simplification. Let’s just say, I’m more Circus of Fear meets Pogo the Clown than Krusty.

So how do you like to clown around? Do you at all?
Give me a freaking break—clown around. Really? Making human pyramids, walking on stilts, eating and juggling fire, coming up with inventive water-expulsion techniques. Meh. I like hanging out at Chuck E. Cheese’s, listening for those sweet words, “Where is my mommy?” I think R.K. Sloane is an amazing artist. Ubu Roi is an absurdly good film. I read poetry and have been known to enjoy a good haiku. This one kills me each time:

Split them wide open
Entrails look like sausages
Go get the Shop-Vac

So you’re complicated—and you’re married. I wouldn’t have guessed.
What is that suppose to mean? Are you saying just because I find pleasure in taunting and sucking the happiness out of kids while they laugh that I don’t deserve a little joy in life? You’re lucky this knife is just a prop. I’m comfortable with my inner villain, and my wife is too. I married the high school “Scream Queen,” she enjoys playing the victim.

How did you make clowning around a profession?
Your mockery is absurd; again with the bad clown pun. Loose limbs and rubber legs run in the family. I went to Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Clown College like the rest of my clan. They called me “White Face” back then. Clown boot camp wasn’t for me. I got kicked out for playing malicious pranks and cheating and that one circus payroll incident. Then I realized that making people scream is big business, and here I am today. It’s a good racket.

You come from a family of clowns?
My cousin Horny—he’s a clown. He worked at a drive-thru for a long time, then one day decided to make us proud. Uncle Shakes (or Bob) in Palookaville is the alcoholic bozo of the family. He was framed for murdering a gang of mimes. Then there’s Sweet Tooth, Killjoy, Shaco “The Demon Jester” and the most nihilistic psychopath of us all, Buggy the Clown. I come from a long lineage of killer clowns. My dad played the clown in Poltergeist. It wasn’t a big role, only a few scenes, but he enjoyed playing a character possessed by a demon. Strangling the kid at the end… man, the sparkle in his one good eye when he tells the story makes you realize that sometimes, dreams do come true.

Heath Ledger or Jack Nicholson?
Jack. I mean Heath. What the hell kind of question is that. Both are likable. Jack made me laugh, and his permanent smile was a work of art. But Heath, man, that guy took sadistic to a place I’ve only dreamt of. The Journal of Scientific Fact recently concluded that kids’ hatred toward clowns has to do with the familiar body type with the unfamiliar face. It freaks them out.

What’s your advice for people suffering from coulrophobia?
How about not punching us in the face, for starters. I’ve gotten punched in the face a few times in my day. Normally I’d just handle my business, but this whole PLUR thing, well, if that mantra weren’t in play, it would be a different scenario.

What are the most challenging aspect of being an evil clown?
Deciding when the appropriate time is to teach little kids the lesson of right and wrong.

It makes sense, “Mr. Giggles” and all, but I’ve gotta ask: What’s up with the uncontrollable episodes of laughing?
Just because you can control yourself and you don’t get all crazy emotional for no particular reason doesn’t mean you’re better than me. Pseudobulbar affect (PBA) is a real neurologic disorder.

Like globophobia?
Who told you I was afraid of balloons? It’s not the balloons, per se; it’s the popping noise freaks me the F out. The worst part is, I can no longer pop children’s balloons with my cigar.

Final questions: What are you obsessing over outside of work?
I’m also a DJ. Messing around with production too. Check out my techstep bootleg remixes of “Entry of the Gladiators” by Julius Fucik and the one of I did for “Sabre Dance” by Aram Khachaturian. Fucking SoundCloud keeps taking the shit down, so I might have to try and upload again.