A juggalo is a doomed man. He has no private interests, no affairs, sentiments, ties, property nor even a name of his own. His entire being is devoured by one purpose, one thought, one passion – Faygo. Heart and soul, not merely by word but by deed, he has severed every link with the social order and with the entire civilized world; with the laws, good manners, conventions, and morality of that world. He is its merciless enemy and continues to inhabit it with only one purpose – to destroy it.
Pennywise sat crisscross on your bed. You being on the floor rummaging through your dozens of CD’s. Some being kept in little books and others still in their cases. Your potable radio a get feet in front of you playing music. The song currently being blasted out was Marilyn Manson’s rendition of “Sweet Dreams”. You caught yourself dramatically swaying and bobbing your head. Pennywise finding it amusing and weird.
You handed him another CD to look over and he furrowed his brows. “I gotta question.” He mutters, making you turn the volume down low. “The hell is with humans and music? The words are either repetitive or pointless. It isn’t like it is effecting your life.”
“Sometimes it does. Music effects everyone differently.” You chuckle and reach to turn the volume back up. “Yes, but even if that is so, would this song not be considered… dreary?” Sighing at his questions. “Some music is sad, others about love and anger. It’s all different. All of it.” Once more you try to turn the volume back up. “And this singer currently on the radio, he is odd, yes? You already showed me that other band. Those poor excuses of clowns-“
“-Insane Clown Posse?”
“Yeah, whatever they are called. They aren’t even trying to get a good laugh out of you. They are fakes.” Pennywise stubbornly crosses his arms. “Penny, you dress like a clown to kill people. They do it because it’s what they like and it is the face of their music.” Standing up from your pile of music, you walk over to Pennywise and cup his cheeks “Poor Penny, is someone a bit insulted by the musical clowns?”
“Insulted? Why would I be insulted. Though… The Manson man would make a better clown. He causes more fear in religious parents than puberty.” Rolling your eyes, you head back to your stuff, sorting them out with your foot.
“I bet those fake clowns can’t scare kids like me…”