So a clown broke into your home.

What was that?!

What was what?

Did you just hear that?

The crash of a kitchen window breaking and then what sounded like disproportionately large loafers hitting linoleum? No.

Huh?

I am an internet advisory column. I do not 'hear'. Really, this is not time to lose your head.

Loafers?

Yes, those hideously brown dress shoes that your dad used to wear. Is your dad here? If so, why would he use the kitchen window? Oh, that's right! I get it.. Your father is having an affair with your wife. My work here is done. Never let it be said that an internet advisory board did not advise you justly. Good day, sir.

What? My wife's not having an affair with my dad! She's right here, wondering who I'm talking to. Also, my dad's dead!

Oh dear. Things are more complicated than I thought. I'm afraid necrophilia is beyond my legal scope of expertise. The courts forbade me to advise on the wonders of cold dead-fish sex along with ingesting copious amounts of cleaning fluid for fear of mass genocide back in the 70s'

You can have sex with dead people? Why did I not know about this? Shit, what was that?!

Maniacal laughter coupled with happy music? Have you ever had the occasion to piss off a clown?

A clown?

There's a clown in your house.

Why is there a clown in my house?! On that note..why is there a disembodied voice in my head??

Shh. Stop freaking out. They feed on that. Now, what do clowns hate most?

Happiness? Sanity?

Water. They hate water.

That's not right at all.

...And maybe Children. But water works best for our purposes right now. Unless you have a child around the house for sacrificial purposes?

Definitely not. Can't I just call the police?

You could, but by the time they get here you will have become one of them.

I'm pretty sure that's not how clowns are made.

You want to bank your life on a 'pretty sure'?

Fair point. What do we do?

You take the conveniently located hose in your bathroom and attack the clown with its fatal weakness: water. Why is there a hose in your bathroom anyway.

My wife and I...

Never mind, I don't want to know.

We use it to clean the tub.

Is that a euphemism for something? If so, it's terrible. Now run downstairs and hose that happy bastard down.

...there's a person inside.

What?

I hosed the clown and there was a person inside.

That can't be right.

He's drunk too. He's crying now.

Get rid of it then! Fast! Before your wife comes downstairs and you have to kill her too!

What? No! I invited him to dinner on Sunday.
Now you've done it. The thing knows where you live now and it knows that you're weak.

I didn't think about that.. what now?

No idea. Well, congratulations. Your house is no longer in danger of being broken into by a clown and/or your dead father! Check out next week's column So You've Invited a Clown to Dinner for more information .


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** Disclaimer: this format is not my invention. That dubious honor belongs to Chris Bucholz of cracked.com.