I like clowns; my favorite puzzle as a kid was a predominately-purple collection of clowns.
But, yeah: a clown just sitting there, smoking a cigarette, glaring at you. Not… menacingly. But not friendly.
He stamps the butt out in an overflowing pile. Reaches, without looking, for another in an endless voluminous pocket.
Lights it with a lucifer match lit off the end of one thick, yellow thumbnail.
Waves out the match, flicks it at the audience.
