WYFF, South Carolina — Residents of a Greenville County apartment complex say clowns have tried to lure their children into the woods with large amounts of money, and deputies have released the report Monday in connection to the claims. …
A woman told the deputy that her son told her that he saw several clowns in the woods “whispering and making strange noises” [and] flashing green laser lights before they ran away. The woman’s older son told the deputy that he heard chains and banging on the front door of their home on the night of Aug. 20. …
Another resident told the deputy that when she was walking to her home on Aug. 21 at about 2:30 a.m., she saw a large clown with a “blinking nose” standing under lamp post near a dumpster. She said the clown waved at her, but did not approach her or speak.
The deputy said other children told him that several clowns appeared in the woods and tried entice them into the woods by showing them large amounts of cash. The children said they think the clowns live in a house near a pond at the end of a trail in the woods.
I’ll start with a little insider-blogging for you all. It’s taken me longer to write this than anything I’ve ever posted. Because after reading the news story, I had to spend a few hours curled up in the fetal position in a corner of my bedroom, sucking my thumb and sobbing uncontrollably. But I’ll finish this thing because it’s my duty.
Suffice to say that after this, I no longer fear death, because there are things in this life that are worse. Much, much worse. Chief among them is a pack of whispering, chain-rattling clowns with laser pointers and blinking ties, living in a house near a pond at the end of a trail in the woods, luring kids with cash, knocking on doors in the middle of the night and silently waving at ladies while they stand next to dumpsters. Nothing could be worse than that. I would welcome the sweet, peaceful release of death before I’d ever be able to live near a forest crawling with child-napping sadistic clowns.
I mean, way to check every box on my “Nightmare Fuel” list, Greenville. As if your garden-variety kid party clown isn’t creepy enough. These South Carolina Forest Clowns are right out of the deepest recesses my subconscious. Every phobia I have, all rolled into one terrifying package, right down to the “Scary Hillbilly” archetype. They make Pennywise sound like Krusty the Klown. And he not only came from Stephen King’s darkest drug phase, “It” scared me so much I carry an irrational fear of pronouns.
My advice to anyone living on the edge of this Hell on Earth is to get the hell out of there. Get as far away as possible from Clown Woods, call in the National Guard and have them level the place with napalm and send these clowns back to the demon dimension from which they came. Yes, the people currently chained up in that cabin by the lake will die, too, but they’ll thank you for it.