Her first semester away at college, I drove out to visit her. I arrived a little early, so I walked around and took a look at the place while she was in choir rehearsal. It was like something out of my private hell, cobbled residence halls with turrets, perfectly groomed grass everywhere, the foul smell of church pews, skittish Christians walking with heavy books and bows in their hair, imports from places like Indiana, Missouri, and Idaho. I laughed at my less than virginal status and thought, "I da ho, not you."

Choir practice was over. I could see across a great expanse of nazi grass little ant sized Christians in robes spilling out the front door of hell. I could see my best friend and got excited. I decided to take a shortcut across the grass instead of following the facist little paths that ran to the left and right of it.

So there I was, strolling along and netting shocked glances and pointing fingers from aryans. It annoyed me, so I yelled, "What the fuck is your problem honey?" The Christians scattered, but two hundred yards ahead, there were more of them, and they were yelling "Get off the grass!"

I was enjoying my treading. Who gives a fuck about their college's landscaping? Holy nerds. Literally.

I finally reached my best friend, who was standing in a mob of Hitler youth. They were all pointing and shocked. She panicked and rushed me to her dorm room, explaining to me that in a hundred years no one has walked on that grass because it is "sacred."

On the way there I began bitching to her, her face whitening with every curse word. "Well that's just idiotic. Its grass, not the holy fucking ghost. Besides, how the fuck do you people think it gets mowed? It would be a damn jungle if no one had walked on it in a hundred years."

She laughed and said, "Cut it out." She's never enabled me. That's why I love her.

"Okay okay. We'll use the paths. Stupid grass."

We were hungry, so she took me to her dining hall, a dungeon in the basement of one of the cobbled buildings. I set my things down on an old bench and went up to the salad bar. I was forking cherry tomatoes onto my plate when I noticed a colorful young man next to me mouthing words.

I looked up and noticed that colorful mute people were all around me dressed as clowns. They had rainbow smocks and red wigs. Their faces were painted white with strange markings on their cheeks and one even had big floppy shoes. Rush week, obviously.

"Holy crap. I would never rush that fraternity. They are fucking cruel."

I paid for my salad and sat down with my best friend. Her face was white again. She hung her head and covered her face in her hands.

"What's up with that fraternity? That is some cruel shit they make you do. Someone ought to report them."

"That's... uh... that's not..."

"What?"

"Erin. Those are... the 'Clowns for Christ.'"

"I'm sorry. The what?"

"The 'Clowns for Christ.' They're not a fraternity. They dress up like clowns. For Christ."

I left, and came back when she graduated, but only for a day. I was terrified that day.

Update: This is Jana. She could be teaching your children Math right now, explaining how fractions work by day, and becoming Jana Wayne Gacy by night. I would look into it if I were you.