Cast aside the illusion that there is a beginning and an end to the story. The story has no beginning. And it has no end. All there is, is a performance of people connecting, living, influencing each other, and departing.
In the town of Wasco, California, people are dressing up as clowns and walking around in the middle of the night. They are some of the creepiest looking clowns I have ever seen. No one knows exactly who they are and why they are doing this.
They also have an instagram that has some ominous/spooky captions going on.
Last year it was England, in the eighties it was Boston.