All language subtitles for Apocalypse-Clown_2023_English-ELSUBTITLE.COM-ST_71832873

They say you should
never give up on your dreams,

but what if you should?

What if your dreams are just
too big and you are too small?

A tiny, insignificant speck of carbon
floating in a cruel, unforgiving universe.

No, the universe doesn't
care about your dreams.

In a flash of light,
in the blink of an eye,

it will wipe its ass with your destiny.

But if you learn to accept this,

to laugh at God
instead of cursing him,

then maybe, just maybe,
you stand a chance

of becoming a pretty decent clown.

Weird.

Where is everybody?

♪ If you're happy and you know it,
clap your hands ♪

♪ If you're happy and you know it,
Clap your hands ♪

♪ If you're happy and you know it ♪

♪ And you really want to show it ♪

♪ If you're happy and you know it,
clap your hands ♪

If you're happy-- bear with me--
and you know it, stamp your...

Ah, you know it don't you?

Are you going to be
able to finish that? Or...

What is it? Red Leicester?
What is that?

Bobo!

I thought we were clear.
We're gonna go another way with this.

Yes, I heard you.
You said I was depressing the children.

That's why I brought out
the happy dance.

Look, we've had a great run, but we're
gonna give Nathan a go this time.

- He does close-up magic...
- And far-away magic.

A fucking wand-stroker?!

My act works!

I've been doing it 25 years!
It's the kids that've changed!

They don't appreciate
the classics anymore.

They just wanna get
jacked up on energy drinks,

and watch Serbian pornography.

- I don't think these kids are watching--
- Asian shit, foot stuff, whatever.

If you want to give my job to a
fucking hat fister, then fine.

Fuck you.

And fuck him,
and fuck this gig,

and fuck all these joyless little pricks,

because I quit. Okay?

Oh, I'll be taking one of these
jellies as well. Thank you!

That was methadone.

Yeah, I knew that.

Alright?

Right.
Let's introduce you.

Good morning, Ireland.

You're listening to 93.5 with Big Roy
and The Animal.

Extreme weather conditions in Bolivia

have baffled climatologists
who fear electromagnetic--

Garth Brooks live this Saturday

at Croke Park, Dublin.
Extra tickets on sale--

Hey, kid.

Do you wanna see a show?
Come on.

- It'll only take a second.
- Hey! Let go!

Help! That thing was trying
to drag my son away!

No, no, no.

That's just where I do my show.
They won't let me do it out here.

If you need any witnesses,
I saw what happened.

She definitely tried to snatch your kid.

Fuck you, Alan!
Just gimme a shot on the strip.

- I've done my time!
- The strip's for artists, Funzo.

You're scaring away the clients.

You want to dance with me,
Alan, do you wanna dance?

Is this clown bothering you, Alan?

Okay.

Okay.

You can run, Funzo but we'll get
you eventually! We can wait!

Human statues can always wait!

-

Before we begin, there are
three basic truths you must accept.

One, God is dead.

Two.

Laughter is the only sane response
to a meaningless existence.

Three, if you are going to do a tumble,

make sure you land
on the meat of your buttocks,

or you will really damage your ass bone.

You, why are you here?

I just love kids.

I guess... making them laugh.

A bit route one, isn't it?
"Making children laugh."

Ah, we have an avant-gardist in our midst.

Let us marvel at his singular genius.

Monsieur DuCoque.

I am Pepe, and this is my interpretation
of the classic mime "Trapped In A Box."

That's a wall.

And another one. Not this again.

Ooh, uh, Julian.
Julian, are you still out there?

I better call Barbara.

Hello? May I speak to Barbara please?

Barbara? Hi, it's Pepe.

Listen, bit of an embarrassing one
for you, Barbara.

You know that box I've got

- at the end of my garden?
- Enough!

This is the worst performance
I have ever seen.

Sorry, maybe you
didn't understand there.

I wasn't actually trapped in a box.
I was just pretending.

A true clown never pretends.

He simply be's.

But I am a true clown.
I just need some training.

If I taught a duck to wear a hat and
a little suit and go to an office

every day with a tiny briefcase,
would that make him a businessman?

Well, if he tried really hard
and read all the books and...

really believed in his
dreams, then yes!

Yes, I know that duck
could become a businessman.

Silence!

You will never... be...
a true clown.

Monsieur DuCoque!

Monsieur DuCoque!

They say comedy equals tragedy plus time.

Well, unfortunately, time was up
for the man that some people called

the last great clown, Jean DuCoque.

And joining me to discuss
his legacy is, well, a bit of a blast

from the TV past,
The amazing Alphonso.

It's "The Great,"
it's "The Great Alphonso."

So DuCoque was, I suppose, some
kind of a hero to you.

Indeed. And I to him.

Unlike many of the other so-called

"stars of the time,"
he was not a jealous clown.

For instance, when Alphonso's
Fun Club became the nation's highest

rated kids' TV show in 1993...

I think I remember that show!

- And then again, in 1994.
- Wasn't it canceled due to some kind

of a freak gunge tank accident?

Yeah, it was.

There were no formal charges.

- Piss off.
- I think DuCoque would be delighted

to hear the announcement
of my comeback show

this Saturday at the
National Concert Hall--

Saturday? Isn't that the same night as
Garth Brooks' Stadium show?

'Cause that's where I'll be!

Oh, fucking hack.

Why are you watching this?

Fuck off!

Fucking thing. Piss off!

Piss off. Why are you smiling?
You've got nothing to smile for.

Eat cock.

Why are you smiling?!

Piece of shit.

I need that source, Suzie.

I'm not going live
without a second source.

No, no. I never said
it was off the record!

- He's not gonna wrap up this story.

You've got 20 minutes.

Wow. It only took you three days.

You know you get paid by the word?

Look, Edith, I think I've
got a real story here.

- What do you know about solar flares?
- I know I don't care about them.

I've been tracking some serious
meteorological anomalies

over the past few months.

NASA, the European Space Agency, the SWPC,
all warning of a potentially major event.

- Alright, listen, Jenny...
- I know what you're gonna say, Edith,

but journalism is in my blood.

You've got a thoroughbred horse here,

and you've got me giving
pony rides round the garden.

I can sleep standing up.
I can shit while I gallop.

Stop wasting me on these
bullshit celebrity puff pieces.

And let me feel the wind in my mane.

All right. As it happens,
I do have a story for you.

Out in the field, something
tailored to your particular expertise.

A clown funeral.

A clown funeral!

How fucked up is that? Who
wouldn't click through?

But I thought you wanted
me for my expertise.

I do.

Didn't you fuck a clown?

Sorry, did I get that wrong?

Jenny Malone fucked a clown, right?

This Jenny?

- She fucked a clown?
- Yes, she's the clown fucker.

Can we all stop calling me that please?

I just hooked up with a guy at a party.

Was it a children's party?

Ah, fuck you, Suzie.
Journalists are talking.

Look, no one else here knows
a goddamn thing about clowns.

So do you want this job or not?

I'll do it.

Some day I'm gonna do
some real reporting,

and I'm gonna show you...

you judgmental bitch.

Are you talking to me
or your dead mother?

- Dead mother.
- Cool. That's totally normal.

Heavy winds being
blamed for the unusual network blackouts

from the Cavernly triangle, and also
fearing increasing levels of disruption,

and a sharp rise in the number
of towns shutting down.

- Can I help you?
- Is Jenny here?

- Jenny.
- Yeah. Five foot four.

Medium hair.

The most beautiful woman in the world.

We do have a Jenny,
but she's kind of plain.

I can take a message.

Um...

could you tell her...

every time I see a sunset
the wind shouts her name.

Jenny!

Don't say that actually. It's weird, no?

I still wrote it...
Could you just say "What up?"

"What up?"

You just want me
to say "What up?"

Yeah, but keep it--
keep it casual,

like you're really busy,
it's no big deal,

so "What up? What up?"

Not like that, but "What up"
like that. Keep it mean.

Okay. Uh, what was your name?

Uh, Bobo.

Bobo as in Bobo the Clown.

Wow.

You know, I don't know
where she is right now,

uh, but I can tell you
where she'll be tomorrow morning.

Please.

-

Thanks for the ride!

- Jenny.
- Oh, fuck me.

Wow, baby girl.

- Of course you're here.
- Wow, you look spectacular.

What are the chances?

Yeah, so I'm good.

Finally got out of the clown game.
At last. Long time coming.

Nah. I just needed a change, you know.
Been reading a lot of fitness magazines.

Hey, how you doing?

Bobo. Nice to meet you.

- So are you a couple or what's the coup?
- What? No!

- Oh, sorry. You seem lovely.
- What, are you single?

- Um...
- We should go out some time.

I know this great little Italian!
And he's a fantastic hot dog stand.

Bobo. I'm working.
Leave me alone.

Nice.

Sorry to cock-block you there, mate.
But me and her got history.

And a future by the looks of it, so...

You can flash all the cash you want, but
you ain't impressing anyone, mate. Okay?

So anyway he says,
"What's with the big pants?"

And then I say,

"that's where I keep the big dick
I use to fuck your mum."

Anyway, that's why I don't play
orphanages anymore.

I'm so sorry for your loss.

Oh, thank you.

Monsieur DuCoque
was like a father to me.

I suppose now it's fallen
upon me to honor his legacy.

Big shoes to fill.

You're right.

I should take his shoes.

Fuck me.

So this guy, he must have
been a pretty big deal, right?

- Who, DuCoque?
- Mm-hmm.

Yeah. I guess. Excuse me.

Aah. You smell musky.

Jen!

Wow! This is a real Who's Who, huh?

Hey. How you doing?

Friends.

The pain and grief we are all feeling.

There are no words.

But where words fail us,

there is always mime!

What're we lookin' at?

I'm trapped in a box while screaming.

That's not how it reads.

Okay, the other hand isn't helping.

A fitting tribute, I think we'd all agree.

But first, let me tell you
how great it is

to see the nation's entire clowning
community in such rude health.

Adieu Monsieur.

But enough about the past.

As you all know,

I myself am back on top,

gearing up for my enormous
comeback show tomorrow night!

But I need a support act.

- Well, if you...
- Not you. Not that.

Wait a minute, where's Boinki?

Doing a Masters.

Hmm?

- Giggles?
- Trampled by a horse.

Oh, probably for the best.

Um, what about you?

Are you a clown?

I mean, the makeup says clown,

- but the hair--
- I'm a journalist.

- Thank you very much.
- Well, perfect.

I'll give you 20 minutes after this.

Then we can do the interview, eh?

Right. Well then, we'll have to audition!

Everyone out to the car park.
I'll give you five minutes each.

Glory awaits!

We just want Funzo.

If you want me, you're
gonna have to take on all of us.

You fucked up now, Alan.

Right, guys?

- Who are you?
- Who's Alan?

You owe me an ear, Funzo.

You take Liberty.

Leave Alan to me.

Take them where?

To Hell.

Oh my God!

You can't do this to me!
My comeback show is tomorrow!

Ticket sales have been robust.

Weird fuckers, come on!

This is a violation of
my journalistic rights.

You might as well curl off a hot one
right on the Geneva Convention.

- Come on to fuck your...
- I want to be in her cell.

I want to be in that cell.

- Was that a tooth?
- Yeah, but it's not mine.

Do you think maybe she's gone scary?

So. What should we call our
clown troupe slash fight club?

- I'm not a clown
- And I am not forming a troupe with you.

I trained under the late Jean DuCoque.

You look like a tramp
who lost at paintball.

- I'm a street clown.
- Street clown?

What is that?
That doesn't even mean anything.

It means I learned my
shit on the streets.

Not some fancy school with a roof on it.

It means a clown for anyone,
any place, any time.

Down an alley, under a bridge,
outside people's windows at night.

I'll clown for you right now.

Without so much as a warmup!

Are you insane?

What?
Never seen a neck trapeze before?

- Oh, well that answers that.
- What did you say, DuCoque muncher?

- You heard what I said you little lunatic!
- Just stop it, you poke at my face!

Why don't you shut up, both of you?!

This whole argument is pointless.

Face it, the world doesn't
need clowns anymore.

We're fax machines, we're travel agents.

We're obsolete.

What's that noise?

Fucking hell!

Funzo? What have you done?
Let them out please.

We could, but then we'd also
be letting out all the rats.

What rats?

- The sack of rats I threw in there.
- We're gonna get you Funzo!

You better sleep with one eye open!

- It's cool. I already do.
- You'll never outrun us, Funzo.

You can't escape. Oh my God,
there's one on my balls.

There's one on my balls.

Weird.
Where is everybody?

Hello?

Anybody!

- My phone's dead.
- So's my beeper.

So are my parents.

But I had nothing to do with it.

So when that thing comes back to life,
how about you give me your number?

And we go for that fantastic hot dog.

Bobo, there's not gonna be a hot dog.

Oh, so you wanna get right down to it
like last time, do you?

Last time was a mistake.

A sweaty, sweaty mistake,
and I've regretted it ever since.

Monsieur is still in there!

How could they leave him?

Trapped in a box, the irony!

Damn it, the Scimitar
won't let me enter her.

You! Journalist!
I've got a show to do!

So I'm gonna have to
drive you in your car.

I can give you that interview
you were asking for.

Nothing electrical is working.

Oh shit, really?

What do you say, friend,
can you give us a lift?

There is no way I'm giving a lift
to a talentless has-been,

a homeless psychopath,

and the woman
who broke my heart!

Look, I've got a big show tonight

and there's a juicy support slot,

which I'm willing to dangle over
the muzzle of any slobbering clown

- willing to do me a solid.
- I can do you a solid.

How solid do you need?

You know we've met before, right?

We both came over here
to audition for the same TV show,

and I spent every penny
I had on that ferry.

And he saw me rehearse
backstage and stole my act.

And the career.
It should have been mine.

Oh, what we got here?

Oh look, it's your whole act.

Look, Boo Boo is it?

Have you any idea how many lesser
clowns have accused me of stealing

their shitty material over the years?

It's not my fault you couldn't
make it on the big boy stage,

but if you did want to make
a genuine contribution

to our illustrious art form,

then the best thing you can do

is drive me to Dublin
so that I can do my show.

Fuck the art form.

Clowning is as dead to me as that boy
band who drowned in your gunge tank.

There was only one of them.
There were no formal charges.

Bobo.

- Bobo.
- What?

I'm sorry about what I said back there.
I don't actually want you to die.

- But you didn't say that.
- Exactly.

Listen,
there's something big going on here,

and I think I know what it is,

and if I'm right,
it's bigger than all of us.

Now we need
to put our differences aside

and get back home as soon as possible

so I can write this story.

I need this, Bobo.

I need you.

Is that, is that a picture
of me on your dashboard?

Fine. Oi.

We'll park this beef, because I don't
mind being the bigger man.

You don't have to do that.
I'll be the bigger man.

No, no, no, no.
I insist.

- Let me be bigger.
- It's cool.

I'm already bigger, so it's just easier
if we think of me as being the bigger man.

Great. Now, how are we
gonna fit five of us in this thing?

Make that six.

- Nothing.
- Oh my God, these are terrible.

Nothing like my act.

Look at this one.
The jugglenaut.

A tower of clowns on fire.

I mean, it makes no sense.

Can you please stop critiquing
my childhood dreams?

I mean, the clown at the bottom would
need to be built like a garden shed.

The one on the top would have to be insane
I mean, certifiably clinically insane.

And as for the one in the middle,

well, this clown would have to be
so still, it was if he were frozen solid.

But above all that,

these three would have to be
willing to die for one another.

You ever met a clown you'd die for?

Hey! Stop the car!

Stop the car.

Clown scum!

Jesus fucking--

Come on, please!

Just one fucking
text message, anything!

What's happening to everybody?

Come back, you bastard.

That's quilted.

That's four-ply. I need that.
Come back!

Come back!

Wait. Stop the car.

Maybe there's someone there.

Oh, good call, Jennifer.
I could eat a horse's ass.

Uh, Jennifer,
I'll have a tall latte, the mixed grill

and some Trebor
Triple X mints please.

Get it yourself, you boiled gammon.

Look, I don't mean to pry,

but does anyone ever tell you,

you remind them of a certain
Stephen King novel?

- What's a Stephen King novel?
- Right.

Um, have you seen It?

What?

- It. It. Have you seen It?
- Have I seen what?

It! It! Fuck.
It's a film. It!

Yes, I've seen a film. I've seen, um...

Babe: Pig in the City.
Changed my life.

Yeah. All right. Well it's...

It's like Babe, except instead of a pig,
it's a clown.

And instead of really
wanting to herd sheep,

he really wants to murder children.

Cool!

What was that?

There is nothing left to steal.

Just move on and you'll come to no harm.

Stay calm.
I am a journalist. A good one.

Leave this to me, Jennifer.
I know how to speak to perverts.

Listen, by all means, have your filthy
way with him, but let the rest of us go.

Oh my God. You're--

You're...

- You're bleeding slightly.
- It's nothing.

No, I think-- I think it's, um...
I think it's something serious.

We should take your shirt off right now.

Listen to the man, Jenny.
There's nothing for us to steal.

Let's go please.

So you're a journalist?

Written all over my face, huh?

No. It was literally
the first thing you said.

Yeah. Okay, um...

What happened here?

The flash in the sky,
everything stopped working.

Sent people insane.

They look like animals fighting
over snack boxes and condiments.

And then we ran out supplies.

They turned on each other.

The sun. I knew it!

Working nights in a burger
trailer in the midlands of Ireland.

I thought I had seen the lowest
humanity could sink.

But this...

A few hours without
Wi-Fi and civilization has crumbled.

What fresh hell is this?

Hyah!

Statues.

I'll hold them back. Save yourselves!

But I want to stay with you!

- Go with your friends.
- They're not my friends.

Fuck fuck, fuck!
Fuck, fuck fuck! Fuck fuck!

Shit.

If something happened to you.
I could never forgive myself.

- Get in the clown car.
- I don't want to!

Get in the clown car!

Go, go, go!

Put your bloody foot down!

It's a wind-up car,
what do you expect?

A solar flare!
I knew it! I was right.

All those years of being called
a crank, a joke, a conspiracy nut,

a flat chested virgin.

Well, fuck you, Mum.

Look at me now!

Calm down and focus on me. Now if
we can just get on the road

we'll have me back in time
for my sound check. Yes?

- Didn't you hear what I said?
- Something about being a virgin?

Just show some respect.

- The lady is definitely not a virgin.
- Oh, shut up Bobo.

Look.

The country, the whole country,
maybe the world, has gone dark.

A solar flare of this
magnitude will have blown out

- power grids, comms, satellites.
- So no TV?

No internet, no sound check!

No Serbian pornography.

Anything wireless, anything digital,
anything with a computer in it, basically,

is as dead as the clown
on the roof of this car.

Look! Some kids alone
by the side of the road!

Stop the car!

- Why? What are you going to do to them?
- Come on.

We don't need computers,
or a fancy concert hall

or parental consent to do a clown show.

Those kids are gonna love it.

Let's go.

No. No, I don't do that any more.

The world is ours now.

Waaah!

No, Funzo, stop!
Funzo, Leave them alone!

Stop! Leave them alone!

So what's our schtick?
Good clown, bad clown?

Maybe we both go bad clown,

- fuck with their heads a bit.
- Just leave them alone, yeah?

It's called Street Clowning.
Watch and learn.

Hey kids, I don't feel very well.

I think I'm gonna...

Okay.
I think I'm good.

Halt!

Who are you to approach our younglings
at eventide, painted fool?

Oh, we were just--

We mean your children no harm, crone.

We are but weary travelers seeking to
lay our master to rest.

- You're from the townlands?
- Yes, ugly wench.

What remains of them. We
hear tell of a great doom.

Indeed. A great darkness
has embraced our kingdom.

Come, the cloud fire is low.
You must be hungry.

What in God's name is going on?

- I think she's gonna make us a feast.
- Oh fine.

Our survival has been hard-won.

This fellowship relies on the
ancient wisdom of our ancestors

- from the Before Times.
- Yesterday?

Now we grow Dustroot and Gelpwort.

Hail fellow chieftain.

Hey, sorry about Siobhan.
She's really fucking high.

I'm Fintan. And you must be... clowns?

Nope, not for me.
Retired from all that bollocks.

I studied movement myself, actually.
Come, chill with us. Stay for the night.

Come on, Siobhan,
we'll get you a glass of water.

What is this place?

We call it Xanadu.

It's a boutique micro festival.

Chill beats, ethical street food,
vibes for days.

Or at least it was before the power cut.

Now we're castaways.

All our Priuses are dead,
we've had to ration our food,

collect rainwater.

But we still have a veritable
cornucopia of class A drugs.

Ah, drugs, you say?

Well, maybe this evening
doesn't need to be a total loss.

You know, Angus Deayton
used to call me The Dyson.

Here we are. Lodgings for the night.

Real Himalayan vibes.

- I hope you don't mind sharing tents.
- No, that's fine.

How about, uh...

me and Jenny take this one,

and the lesser males share with Funzo.

Sounds good.
Come on, let me show you my salt lamp.

Oi.

Can we have a word,
mano to mano?

Eh?

Look, we're both alpha clowns.
I get it, I get it, I get it.

Rival silverbacks.

Two bull walruses stinking up the beach
with our battle musk.

But I want to save you some
embarrassment here, buddy.

Jenny is off the menu.

If we are both walruses, Booboo,

I think it's pretty clear who
the beach master is.

'Cause when you're
the fattest thing on the sand

you don't have to steal anything.
It all just comes waddling towards you.

Governments were warned.

...satellite communications were--
nanas, bananas-- toilet paper...

Can you believe this thing actually works?

Kids'll watch anything
with a screen.

That's live?
But how is he broadcasting?

He must have an analogue
OB transmitter or...

You have to hear me.

This isn't over, people.

Christ, is that Tim?

How did that charlatan get on the TV?

- You know that man?
- That's Tim from Bromanz.

He and his brother
were in a hot boy band.

- Bromanz.
- Brothers, but also men.

Spelled with a zed
because it was the nineties.

He moved into a fallout bunker
and became a recluse.

We used to party with the Lighthouse
Family back in the good old days.

You know where he lives?

I need to meet him,
find out what he knows.

Oh, he'll never talk.

And neither will
the Lighthouse Family.

About the solar flare, you idiot.

Maybe he can shed some light
on what's going on.

- He could be the key to my story.
- Maybe.

How come you know so
much about transmitters?

I actually grew up in a broadcast van.

My mother would just leave me
there for hours at a time

with a bowl of water
and the window slightly open.

Well then,

I think perhaps, Jennifer,

you and I should pay Tim
from Bromanz a little visit.

Sorry to tell you this.
Word has reached me from Dublin.

It's just as I predicted.

Society has collapsed.

There's looting, there's killing.

There's rioting on the streets.
People have turned against one another.

- The government are doing nothing.

This just in...

Garth Brooks is dead.

Fuck.

- Dublin has fallen!
- Oh my god, my children!

We have to do something!

So lads...

If I'm being honest,

it's hard to know what
tomorrow's gonna bring,

but we still have tonight, right?

And while we might be running low on hope,

we still have a pretty decent supply

of some other essentials,
if you know what I mean.

So let's all raise a glass
and let the world know

that we're absolutely sending it tonight!

This is our boutique festival.

Yeah!

And we're not afraid!

Yes.

Wait, wait. What's in this?

Hard to say, but if I had to
estimate a street value

I'd say about three, four hundred quid.

I don't like this.
I don't like this.

I don't like this.
I don't like this.

Bury me with dignity,
you talentless buffoon.

I will! You'll be in Père Lachaise
with the Masters in a proper grave.

Dug by a professional.

You will never be a true clown.

No.

No!

No!

Bobo!

Oh, isn't this amazing!

These are the best people!

Oh, look at us.

Doing what we love.

Me, a real journalist.

Following leads. Getting the story.

And you!

Can you feel your thumbs? I'm really
conscious of my thumbs for some reason.

Such a shame you're not a clown any more.
You were so good.

Really?

Yeah. Yeah. At the show where we met.

- Did you like that?
- Oh my God. Oh my God.

You should do a show for all these people.
They would love it.

It's like Funzo said,
the world is yours now.

Alright then, I will!
I'll be a clown again.

- I'll do a show.
- Yeah! Do you have any gum?

A show, you say? Great idea, Jennifer.

A clown-off.

Let's see whether Booboo has
got anything in his little book

that can hold up under the crushing
weight of my enormous talent.

Yeah! Yeah.
You should do the trick in your book.

The one Alphonso said was fucking stupid.

What, the Jugglenaut?

I am a business man.
I am a business man!

I am a business man!

I need your help.

I'm a business man.

We could never do that!

We'd go down in flames!

Or in history,
as true clowning legends.

- I thought you were done with clowning.
- No, the world was done with clowning.

It moved on to TikTok dances and
live streaming hand jobs on the dark web.

- Ah!
- And none of that works now.

Everything is obsolete except us.

This is our moment.
Can't you see?

This is our opportunity to
clown like the masters before us.

Grimaldi. Gaullier

- McDonald
- No, not McDonald.

- DuCoque!
- DuCoque.

Okay, we're forming a troupe.

No, we're just gonna do
this one trick and then...

I'm reasonably confident
I don't have hepatitis any more.

Okay, I'm not touching that.

You don't touch it,
you spread it on your asshole.

Will you excuse us for one second please?

Sure.

That clown has gone fully scary.

And we both know there is
no coming back from that.

So what should we call our troupe?

I know.
How about Clown-pedo?

You know, like a torpedo of clowns?

Look, this is a three clown trick.

Are you in or not?

Ladies and jellybeans,

stamp your footsies
and wiggle your ears

for the silliest billy around,

The Great Alphonso!

Yeah!

Hey, but where are the audience?

Hello audience?

Hello?

Audience!

Ah, I have an idea.

You haven't had an
original idea in your life.

You skit-stealing fuckpipe.

Ah, there you are!

You will never be a true clown.

Yeah, I might need to take
a rain check on this show.

It's just, um, oh, this is not really my,
my crowd, but, um, uh, break a leg, guys.

I am sure you're going to smash it, so...

- Wait!
- Hey!

We've come too far
for you to wuss out now.

This is our chance to
win back the woman that I love,

and have our revenge
on my nemesis, Alphonso.

So what do you say, my friends? Hm?

Are we in this together or what?

Yeah. I'm still gonna sit this one out.

- Say the magic words.
- Five second call, fellas.

I hope I don't fall in this pie!

- It's just started.
- Yeah. But I spiked his pie.

- With what?
- With spikes.

Showtime!

Ladies and gentlemen!

Shut up a sec.

- Jesus Christ, my eye!
- Funzo what the bloody hell have you done?

Help me! My beautiful eye!

- Jesus Christ.
- The ciliary muscle has been compromised!

So what we're going to do now is a trick
I know. So hope you enjoy.

Pepe, hup!

Get out of the way!

Pepe, I said hup.

He's bottled it. Time to go to Plan B.

- Plan B? We haven't got a Plan B.
- Hi everybody!

Who wants to die?

With laughter!
I meant to say with laughter.

Oh, and this was supposed to be a flower.

Uh, who likes dancing?

Yeah. Don't go.

♪If you're happy and you know it,
Clap your hands. Oi! Oi! ♪

♪ If you're happy and you know it,
Clap your hands ♪

- Put the knife down please.
- What?

♪ If you're happy and you know it ♪

- ♪ And you really want to show it ♪

Oh, Funzo!

Rain hell!

Run!

Jenny!

Good morning, lazybones.

- What happened? Where are we going?
- Paris.

We're going to steal a yacht
and take DuCoque home.

What?
No, no, we have to go after Jenny.

Why would we do that?

Because Alphonso kidnapped her,
you turquoise dick.

- Now turn around!
- No! Stop!

- You're gonna get us killed.
- No, you're gonna get us killed.

No, I'm going to get us killed.
Yeah!

Let women drive!

Oh shit.

Oh, fantastic.

Well, looks like we're walking.

- They can't have gone far.
- No, we can't just leave Monsieur here.

Uh, we can, and we should

because he's starting
to smell like a chef's ass.

Right. Which way's North?

I think you're supposed to follow the sun.

And are we following the sun
or are we following your dick?

Jenny is in danger and I need to rescue
her from that fat nonce.

Do you though?
I mean they looked pretty cozy

on the back of that
emotional support horse.

Right. You two can either
come with me and be heroes,

or you can starve out here
and end up like your hero.

- Fine. We'll follow the sun.
- Hmm.

but when we reach it,
I am coming back for DuCoque.

This is just troupe banter, right?

We'd never split up, right?

Nah. Clown-pedo is 'til death.

Wait for me!

Hyah!

Onward trusty steed and away!

Yes, me and Tim from Bromanz used to
stagger back here drunk once a fortnight.

God, I know this old place
like the back of his head.

How are you so perky?
Didn't you lose an eye?

I took a handful of these.

I don't know exactly what they are,

but they're actually making me
prefer having just the one eye.

Tim from Bromanz,
as I live and breathe.

You won't be doing either for long
if you don't identify yourself.

Tim it's me, Alphonso. Fonzie Bear.
The Fondler.

- Al? I haven't seen you since...
- The after party.

Who's your friend?

Jenny Malone. Viral Load Media.
I'm a journalist.

Wasn't there that evening.
I left before nine.

I swear to God, there was nothing
going on that I knew about anyway.

Tim, it's not about that.

Jennifer here has got a theory
about what's happened to the world

and we think you could help us.

Oh, hello?

Oh, hello doggy.

Hello. You're so cute.
Yes you are.

- Can we come in?
- Uh...

Sure that's a yes.
Thank you.

Shakira.

Come on.

Poor thing's very sick.
Got her on heavy sedatives.

She's been with me through it all.
The fame, the fall.

Years of people
calling me a tinfoil hat wanker.

She's all I've got now.

Ah, Rolf!

Dreadful pervert, of course.
But by God could that man draw a kangaroo.

Good girl, Shakira.

- We saw your broadcast.
- I didn't think it was reaching anyone.

- I know what's happening. It's a--
- Solar flare.

Exactly.

Good old Flex!

You know I was friends
with all of the Gladiators.

Yes. All except for Pegasus.

Let's just say I plowed his wife
and uh, we'll leave it at that.

Traitors, the bloody lot of them.

How are we not prepared for this?
The government must have known.

Of course they knew.

They've known for years.
They wanted this to happen.

All of this...

this is only the beginning.

What I'm about to tell you goes deeper
than you could possibly imagine.

But before I start...

does anyone want tea?

Milk?

It's UHT Milk.
Is that okay?

Sugar.
One? Two?

One for you. Two for you.
Both with milk.

Do you know what?
I'll just put everything on a tray,

and bring it out.
You can make your own.

It goes on and on.

I can't take much more of this.
I'm so hungry.

Why aren't there any bistros?

I give up.

Jenny doesn't love me.

She was on ecstasy.

What the hell was I thinking?

Hey. I know things look really bleak
right now, but that's just because

things are really bleak right now.

It's time to face facts.

I'm a terrible clown.

Yeah, yeah, you are.

Oh, like you're any better?

What good is all that training

if you can't get on stage
without browning your trousers?

Lots of great artists
struggled in their early years.

Early years?

How long you gonna
be chasing this dream?

Ten years. I'm going to chase
the dream for ten years and then,

- I'm just gonna live the dream.
- Oh, cool. Didn't realize you had a plan.

- Yep.
- That changes everything.

It does, doesn't it?
Just stick to your plan,

believe in yourself,
and never give up.

That's what all the great clowns did.

I mean, sure, there's...

millions of deluded people out there who
believe in themselves and should give up.

But I'm not one of them.

I'm in that first category.

That's something I've always
known deep in my heart.

And your heart can't be wrong, can it?

Oh, fuck.

Hey, put that back on! You are a
DuCoque-trained buffoon!

I'm not.

I trained under him for three minutes
and I was so bad that he died.

But you're such a pretentious wanker.

- I'm self-taught.
- It doesn't matter.

We're not giving up.
We're a troupe.

Aren't we?

This is our time.

You said it yourself.

This isn't our time.

I only said that cause I needed
your help to impress Jenny.

The world doesn't need us.

It never needed us.

It would be better for everyone if we all
just sit down and quietly die.

We are not all going to die.

One of us will die
and the other two will eat him.

That's you, Pepe.

Oh, there she is.
Welcome back, It.

- What's that supposed to mean?
- Oh, come on Funzo.

We all know what you are.

- Don't you say the S word.
- Oh, don't say the S word.

What else would you call a clown
who asks children if they want to die?

- A trailblazer who lives on the edge?
- You live in a sewer.

Where else was I gonna go, huh?

Back to the sanitarium?
I don't think so.

Are you even listening to yourself?
You are a walking Halloween costume.

You are what children check for
under their bed at night.

- Don't do it, Pepe.
- No! She needs to know.

Funzo. You are a scary clown.

I'm not a fucking scary clown.

Yes you are, but you don't scare me
you little bastard.

Then lets settle this the clown way.

Last one to die wins.

- Since when is that the clown way?
- Calm down.

I'm going to wear your skin as a cape.

Set the table, Bobo. Tonight we feast on
wussy-wussy puss-puss.

My God, I am a scary clown.

I'm really glad you had a breakthrough,
but there's a fucking knife in my hand.

- Do I push or pull? Push or pull?
- Pull, obviously.

Hey, that car looks just
like yours, what are the chances?

Oh fuck off.

Now that we're on our knees, they
can roll out whatever protocols

they want with zero resistance.

We're like ducks...

...in a vice.

Quack.

It's all so obvious.

They're gonna let society eat itself.

We need to get this information
out there before it's too late.

I've been trying, but my transmitter
won't reach more than 20 to 30 miles.

So we need a mast,
like 50 or 60 feet high.

We could bring the truth
to the whole country.

I have a pretty big one,
and as it happens it's still erect.

It's in here somewhere.

This is my big top.

Now it hasn't been used in years,
but the main mast is still standing,

proud and tall.

Like a penis.

This is perfect, Tim.

I rig your transmitter to this
mast and then you and me

could present an emergency report.

We could save lives.

No, no, no.

Shakira is very sick.

I can't leave her.
She's an indoor dog.

She hasn't left here in 15 years,
and neither have I.

Tim, I need you to be brave.

The people need you.

Just like your brother needed
an identical version of hims--

My brother is dead.

I'm sorry, I'm just not up for this.

If not for us, Tim,
then do it for Shakira.

Look into her eyes and tell me
you don't want this bitch to live

in a world that knows the truth.

I'll do it.

Can't find my driving gloves.
Gonna have to borrow yours, Jenny.

Jenny? Jenny? Jenny.

- Do you think it's safe for you to drive?
- Oh, buckle up, you painted ham.

I've driven bigger rigs than this.

God help us.

- Fuck, fuck, fuck.
- Go, go, go, go.

No! Shakira...
No!

It was my sixth birthday.

Me and my two best friends snuck
into the circus and saw the clowns.

After that, all we wanted to do
was be like them.

We even formed a troupe, the Superfriends.

It wasn't my fault.

What did you do?

I misread the label.

I thought I was dousing them
in laughter fluid.

I couldn't handle what I'd done,

so I created someone who could.

I called her... Funzo.

If I take this off,
I don't know who I'll be.

Who were you before?

Ja...

Jan...

Janet.

My name was Janet.

Well then you'll be Janet. Yeah.

- That's okay?
- It's okay.

- Yeah. Yeah.
- Yeah, okay.

- Yeah. You'll be Janet.
- Yeah, Janet. Yeah.

- And I guess I'll be Ken.
- Ken.

And I'll be Jean-Luc.

Really?

- Jean-Luc?
- Yeah.

- That's your name?
- Jean-Luc.

Why would I say it if I...

It's no problem if it is. It's just,
Jean-Luc. Really? Come on.

All right. Dean.
My actual name is Dean.

- Okay.
- That's more believable. Yeah.

- Janet.
- Dean.

Ken.

Hello, my name is Janet.

- Hello, I'm Dean.
- Afternoon, I'm Ken.

Welcome.
Thanks for having me.

- Janet, Ken, Dean.
- Hello, my name is Dean.

- Is this blouse unisex, or...
- Hello, my name is Janet

and I'd like one plate of meat please.

Hello, I'm Ken and I'm interested in
purchasing a secondhand microwave.

I'm Janet, your new neighbor.
I just moved in beneath your house.

Hello. I have a voucher for a couple's
massage, and my name is Dean.

No, it's just me. Can I go twice?

Hey, my name's Ken and I'm
your mum's new boyfriend.

- Et voilà.
- Wow. It's bigger than I thought.

I bet you never had a
woman tell you that before.

Well actually, my prostate
doctor is female, so...

Dr. Susan Wang.

- Welcome to my humble home.
- Lovely.

Did you...

What was that?

- Let's get back to the car.
- Don't worry. I speak child.

So, which one of you little
scamps is the leader then?

What's it to you, Granddad?

Him?

Looks like a bed wetter to me.

You wouldn't all follow a bed
wetter, would you?

I'm not a bed wetter.

Sorry, I can't hear you over
the overwhelming stench of piss.

So which of the rest of you think that
you could help run Alphonso Land, hmm?

Too scrawny.

Too ginger. A girl.

Oh well.
I suppose the leader has to be me.

Ignore your parents.

Forget the wrath of grown-ups.

No rules, no homework, no bedtime.

Welcome to Alphonso Land!

How's this for camera-ready, Mum?

Who's not going to amount to anything now?

You dead bitch.

Oh, there you are, miss.

Need you on set in five.

What is this?

Okay, listen up guys.

We need to be ready to shoot in five.
It's not ideal but it is what it is.

First up...

Jennifer, that's not the outfit
I picked out for you.

A spangly leotard didn't really
seem appropriate

for breaking the biggest
news story in the world.

It is however, the perfect attire
for the glamorous assistant

for the only clown on television.

- What?
- This weekend was to be my big comeback.

I see no reason why that should change
just because the world as we know it has.

Didn't you listen to Tim from Bromanz?

This is urgent.
We have to tell the world.

Jennifer, we've been handed
a golden opportunity here.

So we have the biggest broadcasting
facility in the country

and we're gonna use it
to put out a clown show?

Finally, we're on the same page.

Oh, this is stupid.

Okay, kids, I have an important
message to get out to the world.

Turn the camera over here.

Put her in the tiger cage.

Have you lost your mind?
We're in the middle of a global calamity.

This is Y2K times 2K, and I'm the
only one who knows what's going on.

You have to let me tell people.

No, no, no. You can't do this.
This is my big story.

My mother doesn't get to win again.

How is she still winning?
We put her in the ground.

There's still a way out of this, Jennifer.

Just be my Debbie McGee.

Aww.

What in God's name are you
trying to achieve here?

I'll be the only game in town, Jennifer.

I was canceled once before.
I lost my TV show.

My celebrity friends, my
regular table at Stringfellows.

Well, I'll not let them do it to me again.

I'm going to create an army here.

Loyal fans who will fight to keep me on
the air with their dying breaths,

and I will be revenged on everyone
that betrayed me!

Alphonso! Alphonso!

Oh look. They're calling my name.

Alphonso! Alphonso!

Bye bye, Bobo.

Boys and girls! Ladies and gentlemen!

That's the guy!

I'm back!

What are you doing? This isn't Paris.

Let's him go, Dean.
Let him go.

He is with Satan now.

I feel like I've swallowed a load of dirt.

You have. You were snoring.
It was the only way to shut you up.

I need a bloody drink.

Well, Ken, it seems to
me we have two options.

Either we drink our own piss or...

we drink each other's.

Come on, give me just a drop
you miserable bitch.

Not in my... I've got a
bloody open mouth here.

So this is a sex thing?

No. We're just having...
Actually, let's go with sex thing.

Mildly less embarrassing.

We used to be clowns, but my
name's Janet now, and I'm a person.

Well, as it happens, I'm
on the trail of a clown.

I don't suppose you've heard of
The Great Alphonso?

That hack. Nope, never heard of him.
Wasn't a fan.

He killed my dog,
stole my life's work.

- Him and his clueless journalist friend.
- What?

Now she's broadcasting
a clown show from his big top

with my transmitter.
Took everything from me.

Swear to God, when I find her...
What's that smell?

It's nothing.

This doesn't make sense.

Jenny hates clowns...
unless she's on drugs.

Alphonso must have taken her hostage
and given her drugs.

Jesus Christ. Not this again.

No, no, no. Fuck it.
I know where they are.

Bobo couldn't save the woman he loves.

But maybe Ken can.

I'm coming with you.

Then we're coming too!

- I'm not sure we're all going to fit.
- Fine, go on.

Let's ride.

So where are your clothes?

Ah, we burned them
as a symbolic gesture,

which in retrospect
was entirely unnecessary.

We can't save Jenny in our pants.

We're gonna have to steal some clothes
or we'll look ridiculous.

It's Jenny.

Right, I'm gonna need you guys
to create a diversion. Okay?

I've got this flare.

Keep away from children.

Why does everyone keep saying this to me?

Okay, what's the plan?

Okay, I'm gonna commando roll across
that field, crawl for a bit,

parkour my way over the fence

and take out
the first kid with one of these.

And I'll say, "tough break."

The second kid will come at me from
behind, and I'll give him one of these.

Ah, wanker!

And I'll say, um...

I won't say anything there.
I'll keep it stealthy.

So at that point,
it's just those two kids

standing between me
and a happy ever after.

So I'll jump up, grab the door frame
and give 'em a double kick. Ya! Ya!

I'll say "two's company,"
or "twice to meet you."

Everyone got it?

Yeah.

Oh, by the way,
if I don't make it out there,

tell the world I died with dignity.

You want us to lie.

No, just imply I was wearing trousers.

Okay.

Hey, Ken!

What's a diversion?

Well, well, well, looks like you've
made some new friends, Tim.

We're here for the girl.

Let the girl go and
no harm will come to you.

She's just a girl.

I'm 35, you dick.

I kept your secret, Alphonso.
You didn't have to kill my dog.

What secret?

I'm sorry about your dog,
by the way,

but I do wanna get clarity,
though, on that secret.

The gunge tank.

It was the after party of series
three of Alphonso's Fun Club.

It wasn't an accident.
I saw him do it.

My brother was taking
the piss out of the show.

He was making jokes about it.

He called it Al-fuckso's Bum Club.

So Alphonso drowned him in gunge,

and he threatened to do the same
to me if I ever told anyone.

Well, sadly for you, Tim,
it looks like you just have.

Bedwetter, Ginger Twat!
Throw the others in with Jennifer.

Tim here is about to experience
pie to the power of infinity.

Jenny, I swore that I'd find you.

- It's true. He wouldn't shut up about it.
- And now we can be together.

We could start a new life!
In this cage, if needs be.

- Bobo what are you talking about?
- That's the thing. I'm not Bobo any more.

- I'm Ken.
- Ken.

- Ken.
- She knows.

Just normal, dependable Ken.

- Ken.
- Okay.

Type of bloke that wears
brown size nine shoes.

Who owns a shed.

Sort of bloke you could get to know
over a tepid cup of Bovril.

Type of guy you could settle down with.

As I say, in this cage, if needs be.

Where have you guys been?

On a long journey
to the center of ourselves.

My name is Dean and
I'm not a clown either.

In a funny way
I don't suppose I ever really was.

And I'm Janet, and my thing is,

when I was six I set my friends on fire.
I poured...

- Oh mother of God!
- The show's about to start.

Listen, that 200 pound slab of lunch meat
is trying to amass an army of children.

We need to disable that transmitter
and get him off the air.

Hello boys and girls!

I am back on the TV where I belong,
and tonight for a special treat.

I have an old celebrity friend.

Tim from Bromanz!

Are... we... ready?

No, no, no, no, no.

Unleash hell!

Stop it!

He's had enough!

Hold your fire!

We're going to need him conscious
for the main event.

Gunge him! Gunge him!

And we're going to have more celebrity
people come on this show all the time.

With your help! I want you to bring
some of those friends of mine

who I haven't seen since I was on TV.

If you bring this to me,
you get a big reward. Yes!

So come to Alphonso Land!

No homework, no rules, no bedtime!

And anybody who tries
to stop us will get gunged!

Anyone!

Jesus Christ. He's gonna
gunge us all to death. Oh God.

Oh God.

Oh God. We're next. Oh God.
This is all your fault, Bobo.

I wish I'd never met you.

I could be off breaking the
biggest story in the world

with an unbelievably hot
burger van guy now.

Instead of being stuck in
a cage with a bunch of clowns

waiting to be murdered by feral children.

Actually ex-clowns. But I'll shut up.

Why me, Bobo?

Out of all the women in the world
you could have chosen to obsess over,

why did you land on me?

Because you were the
first person in 15 years

who made me feel good about myself.

Made me feel more than just a...

fat clown at a children's party.

That I was important.

And that I was someone
who deserved to be loved

Because I threw you
a drunk fuck in a cupboard?

It was long--
It was long enough to know...

- I love you.
- Oh shit.

Oh my God.

Oh, that's bleak.

Oh, oh, that's so fucking bleak.

God. Okay. Yeah.
No. Alphonso! Alphonso!

Yes, I'm in. I give up.

Clown blood.

It's fresh.

They're close.

Ah, Pegasus.

My old friend.

Jesus Christ, they just keep coming.

We need to get outta here.

There's no way we're getting past
these homicidal rug-munchers.

- I think you mean rugrats.
- They're terrifying.

One of them smokes a pipe.

Alphonso was wrong you know,

about the Jugglenaut.

It doesn't need clowns who
are willing to die for one another.

It just needs clowns
who have nothing to live for.

- What?
- Well think about it.

These kids like violence.

They like danger, they like
watching people hurt themselves.

If we can pull off a trick like that, we
might be able to distract them long enough

to do one last decent thing with our lives
and take that prick Alphonso off the air.

Everyone dreams of dying
doing what they love.

And since that's not an option for us,

what say we go out clowning?

Oi! Bedwetter. Gather your men.
I've got something to show you.

What is it?

It's a clown show.

We've just seen one.

Not like this.

I knew you would come
around eventually, Jennifer,

now for a moment there,
you nearly chose the wrong team.

It's a brave new world, Jennifer,
and it's ours for the taking.

Me as warlord slash
global clown Emperor

and you beside me as my
bikini-clad assistant.

Ah, thank you Shakira.

Yes.
I mean, sounds good.

Have you got anything to drink?

Jenny, do wombles shit
on Wimbledon Common?

Hmm?

- Drinks cabinet's over there.
- Great.

I will make us a...

vodka and...

scotch.

Ah, a Kilted Russian: how very agreeable.

Hello, boys and girls.

My name's Bobo,

and these are my friends, Pepe and Funzo.

Who likes balloons?

I do.

Oh.

Ah, this was a mistake.

- What was that?
- Oh, nothing.

You know what kids are like
when they're drunk on power.

A toast to good friends.

Ah, Jenny.

I hate for you to embarrass yourself

in front of the Rotary Club Toastmaster
General in 1992, 1993, and 1995.

I'd better do this. Hmm.

Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished
guests, Princess Michael of Kent.

An occasion such as this always calls for
one of the greatest and indeed longest

poems of the last six centuries.

Okay. Screw the crowd work.
Skip to the big finish.

Boys and girls, I present to you

the Jugglenaut!

Pepe, hup!

I can't. I can't do it.
I'm not good enough.

I never have been.

I'll never be a DuCoquesman.

I don't need you to be a DuCoquesman.

I don't care what some dusty French
wank merchant thought of you.

I just need you to
climb on to my fat shoulders

and be paralyzed with fear, please.

Okay, I can do that.

Funzo, hup!

I don't want to be Funzo.
I don't want to scare anyone.

Funzo, Janet.
It doesn't matter what you call yourself.

Being scary is who you are.

You were born to do this,

and I'll be honest with you, some of these
kids could do with a decent fucking scare.

Oh God.

Oh Jesus.

Three, two, one!

Pepe!

Hup... hup... hup...

Funzo, grab the transmitter!

I can hear it!
The laughter! It's like thunder!

"Since last she was a wee--"
Wait.

Is that children enjoying themselves?

That's impossible.
I'm still here.

Let's have your drink first.

♪ I like to drink with Alphonso.
Alphonso is my mate ♪

♪ And when I drink with Alphonso,
He gets it down in eight ♪

Jesus Christ, okay, fuck it!

Show's over!

- Funzo!
- No!

- You killed our friend.
- Our best friend, you monster.

An eye for an eye, Booboo.

And now it's your turn.

We just want Funzo.
Give her over now

and I promise you all a
quick and painless death.

Too late. He's already killed her.

Yeah. Just a few minutes ago.
You couldn't have been closer.

What?

Well that is an anti-climax.

I mean, we traveled all
this way fueled by revenge.

- You're gonna have to give us a minute.
- This is bloody typical.

- Bloody typical!
- Okay, okay.

We have no time for this.

I need you to be more
solution orientated now,

rather than focusing on problems, okay?

- It's a tiny motorbike.
- No, no.

Yeah. Great. Great.
Let's explain that to them, then.

Okay. So we've noticed
that you've got a gunge pit

and we've always
wanted to try one of those,

so I think we're just
gonna murder you all with that.

Tie their hands.

Why does no one seem to be...
Stop it!

Turn around. Don't tie me up.
I have money.

Well, Bitcoin.
It's yours if you let me go.

My ear! My other ear!

Bobo! The transmitter!

The transmitter!

There's only one way to settle this, Alphonso.

I will crush you with my bulk.

I have seen off many rivals.

Who's the walrus now, Alphonso, you dick?

- Who's the fucking walrus now?
- You are.

I've beaten you in every way.

As a clown, as a man.

Both ways!

Do you know I used to look up to you?

You were one of the
reasons I became a clown.

I'm so sorry.

Oh, I'm not gonna hurt you.

Because I'm the bigger man.

- And the better clown.
- Bromanz forever!

Jesus Christ, Tim.
I was just doing a whole thing.

And I should have done that 30 years ago.

Okay Funzo, you've earned your spot.
We'll see you on the strip.

- You okay, Janet?
- Of course. Nothing bad happened to me.

Nothing bad ever happens to Funzo.

We should probably help him.

- No.
- Okay!

Okay. It's all looking good.

Fantastic.

Okay.
We're all set.

You ready?

I was born ready, Bobo.
It's in the blood.

Going live in Five! Four! Three!

- Are you gonna do it wearing that?
- Oh shit.

Good evening.

I'm Jenny Malone reporting
the truth to the world.

I realize we've all been through a lot,
but what I'm about to tell you

should explain how we got here and how
we are going to survive this together.

In 1967, the CIA, in conjunction with
the teenage Hillary Clinton,

began a series of experiments on the sun.

And two days ago, under the instruction

of a sinister cabal of shapeshifting,
pedophilic lizard people,

they unleashed
a secret weapon on the world.

- Operation: Solar Flare.
- I've been saying it for... yes!

A plan to enslave humanity,
harvest our DNA,

and sell it to the Chinese
chemtrail industry.

Over the next three to four hours,

I will show you--

Irrefutable evidence
of John F. Kennedy's...

John F. Kennedy...

- What are you doing?
- What's going on then?

- Is it-- is it over?
- Everything's turning back on.

Yeah. Yeah, okay.

Oh my gosh.

And although Áras an Uachtaráin was
completely obliterated, the president was

eventually carried to safety by Brazilian
burger technician Gustavo Musculos.

Elsewhere, chaotic scenes
played out across the nation

with a series of localized
electrical blackouts

believed to have been caused
by a massive power surge

at a recent concert by
country singer Garth Brooks.

May he rest in peace.

Then there was this bizarre broadcast

by the daughter of celebrated news
correspondent Deborah Malone,

Two days ago,
under the instruction of a sinister cabal

of shapeshifting pedophilic
lizard people--

I think we can all agree her late
mother would be massively disappointed.

Next up, clown funerals.
They're like buses, aren't they?

You wait ages for one and then
two come along all at once.

Nineties has-been clown,

the late Alphonso
has popped his giant clogs

and is in a tiny little car
on his way to heaven right now.

Thanks for helping us out, Jenny.

Yes. Thank you so much for letting us
bury DuCoque in your mother's grave.

Don't mention it.
She hated clowns and the French.

When we first hooked up
at your niece's birthday,

did you ever imagine we'd end up here?

No.

No, of course not.

Yeah.

Me neither.

Oh, what the fuck are you doing?

I just thought we'd been on this journey.

I vanquished the other male.

Did I read the moment wrong?

We are secretly burying a rotting
clown corpse in my mother's grave.

What is it about this moment
that you think is sexy?

- The sun?
- The sun. Oh.

It's kind of sexy.

It's like a big, red
clown nose in the sky.

Goodbye, Bobo.

Forever this time.

- Yeah, but what about...
- No! Forever.

Well, what now?

I hear there's a prime spot
going on the main strip.

You could get your DuCoque
out on the street!

Do you know, I used to blame
Alphonso for my lack of success.

But now that he's gone,
I can't see anything getting in my way.

Let's do it!

Well, it looks like we're
gonna need some business cards.

- We need a name first.
- We have a name!

- We are not calling ourselves that.
- It's too late!

Where are the clowns of yesteryear?

Where are the red and white faces
and the absolutely enormous trousers?

I understand that the
world is different now,

but I miss the good old days.

Where are the children who are
happy with simple pleasures?

Not Serbian Pornography.

Life is bullshit.

I hate young people.

What a bunch of pricks.

They pull at my nose and call me a tramp.

Here is the duck.

With his tiny briefcase.

He checks his list,

and adjusts his glasses.

My name is there.

There's no hardship.

I will go with
him in his little business suit

Goodbye dreadful world,
goodbye cruel life.

This is my final act, the last ritual.

Life is not rosy.

Whatever Edith Piaf says.

You are listening to the audio
book of Life of Pie, a Clown Odyssey,

written and narrated by the Great
Alphonso. Chapter One. Beginnings.

I was a born clown despite
a difficult childhood.

I was ten years old
when the bullying first started.

At its height, I must have been
bullying 20 or 30 children a day.

I didn't know at the time, but
this was the perfect preparation

for a career in television.