Hello again, Story Club members.

I'm Ivy, your ghostly host with the most and keeper of the strangest, spookiest tales on earth.

Today is another Ivy's chilling tale.

This white-knuckled yarn story club members might make you stay away from

pale-faced circus entertainers forever. It's one I call the fears of a clown. The Carnival is in

town at the annual Labor Day County Fair, but Donnie and I have decided to skip it and go skateboarding instead.

Since Circus Burger lies only a short distance from the skate park, my best friend and I ride our boards over to the fast food joint in the September sunshine.

Just to be funny, because, you know, it is Circus Burger after all, we decide to cruise our skateboards through the drive-throw. They're not too busy at the moment. Not many cars in the parking lot and nobody's ordering food from their car, so it seems like a good idea. We wheel up on our boards and I order a vanilla milkshake. Donnie rolls his eyes and asks how I can be so boring. I'll have the Big Top Burger, make it a double with cheese,

some tiger fries, extra large, a high wire chocolate shake elephant sized, and a couple of

sideshow apple pies. He looks at me. Did I forget anything? No, I think he pretty much

ordered one side of the menu on the reader board. As we're starting to ride our boards forward, a car pulls up behind us.

At first, I don't pay much attention to it.

To be honest, now that we have an audience, I'm feeling somewhat embarrassed about riding my skateboard through the drive-thru.

Then the horn honks.

It's this funny little squeaky horn like you'd hear on a kid's tricycle, not at all like

a regular car horn.

Turning around fully, I see that the car behind me is actually really tiny and brightly colored

with polka dots.

It's the smallest car I'd ever seen, and it couldn't possibly fit more than two people.

The windshield is dark, tinted, but what I can make out from behind that smoky glass fills me with dread, clowns.

From what I can see, there are about 15 in that tiny car, all their faces, white as bone, smashed up against the windshield. Their cherry red

noses like scarlet light bulbs. For the record, when I was a kid, I had this wind-up jack in the

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