Clowns?

*wibble*

Clowns were mean. They once robbed his mother and took his ice cream too. No. He was not participating.

Folding his arms across his chest like a stubborn child, Ezra sulked in his seat, feeling uneasy as everyone kick-started their painting jobs.

Although he was no Picasso, he liked to paint. And those face paints had a very come hither look going on. Oh, the dilemma.

After several minutes of reflecting, Ezra stopped by the front desk and grabbed a set of clown supplies, "Yoohoo, I need a partner." He called out, glancing around the class for a friendly face to ruin.