High Wire by Nathan Crowder

It was an accident that led Dingo here, a stupid rookie mistake. He had been in a rush cleaning the seltzer bottle the day before. He hadn’t thought to flush the vinegar from the nozzle. When the spray hit Mr. Tinkle in the eyes in the middle of his act, the veteran clown had cried out. It had been his first public vocalization in twenty-seven years of performances. That kind of commitment one expected out of a Bozo or an Emmett Kelly. For a run-down whiteface on the rural tour circuit, it was almost legendary.

The clowns cried out for retribution.