I'm very, very sorry.
Now let me to explain the thing I'm apologizing for:
It's...well, it's what we found in an old arcade on my birthday last weekend. More specifically, it's the fact that I'm about to show you PICTURES of the thing we found in an old arcade on my birthday last weekend.
Ok, here goes.
(Oh. Maybe I should have said something about not scrolling down here if you have a fear of clowns. Heh. Whoopsie!)
Stinky was way in the back of the arcade, past all the kiddie games and claw machines, and from a distance I honestly couldn't tell if he was a real person or not.
When we got closer, we were treated to this nightmare-fueling view:
Oh, but wait: it gets worse.
(You, uh, may want to scroll quickly past this next one:)
This photo is blurry because:
A) I couldn't look directly at him
B) my hands were shaking from laughing (that's my story and I'm sticking to it), and
C) Stinky chose this exact moment TO START MOVING.
You know, I'm not sure these photos truly capture the full "Stinky experience."
So let's try a little video!
You can hear his high pitched laugh around the five second mark. I'm honestly not sure if this is *supposed* to be scary or not...but it is. It really, really is. And speaking as someone who used to be a clown - yes, with the face paint and everything - I'd like to go on record as saying THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE CLOWNS.
Well, this and Stephen King.