Cholo Clown Drawing Novels & Stories

He could only obediently go into the cabin to check for working radio equipment. Meanwhile, Alex yanked Clown out of his spot. “Argh!” A shriek of pain was heard as Clown felt a chapped pain on his bottom. A line of bloody gash formed along his thigh due to abrasion, while the other leg was almost broken. Smack! Smack! Smack! Alex directly gave him three hard slaps on the face. Suddenly, a little notebook fell out of Clown’s pocket. Alex nonchalantly picked it up and opened it. To his surprise, it was a book with techniques to cultivate one’s mental power.

They were the trio of the century—infamous since high school for bullying others simply for being ugly, stupid, poor, or sometimes all three. Cindy had always been the Barbie of the group. Selena, on the other hand, possessed the kind of hourglass figure and golden retriever smile that could make any man do a double take. Chloe, meanwhile, looked like a Kardashian knockoff—a blend of good genetics and the special touch of Mr. Knife. She had the appearance of an average I*******m model: the cute height, warm tan, and nose-brown hair that fell just to her shoulders. But Chloe was the one with the humor.

“My mate won’t be Vince.’’ Chloro giggled from where she was on the floor. The two girls turned their heads in her direction, wondering when she came into the room and who gave her nail polish. "Look," she held out her fingers for Harlow and Johan to see, "they're pink." Chloro laughed again before positioning herself to paint her toes. "Wow!" Johan said, holding her hands over her eyes. Chloro had spread her legs, giving them the perfect view. "Harlow, stop looking," Johan squealed. Harlow gave her a sheepish look, "like you aren't peeking through your fingers." Johan turned away. “We should get you some clothes."

In the end, I think they turned out great. Not that I knew what the others were for but there was also a frog on a log, a humming bird and a fat Cardinal. The very last one I was drawing was for Arlo. He got those picture for us, or more for me. It was of a wolf. It’s head was downward with his teeth showing. The hair was standing straight up with a human skull under it’s paw. There wasn’t any flesh on it, just the bones. Originally, I was going to make it a dead rabbit or something but this seemed appropriate. Keeping this one black and white, kept some of the mystery alive. “Charlotte??” Waylon yelled as he was coming in.

Chloe tugged the canvas from its case. Alarm bells rang in my head. I didn't dare grab for it outright. Pulling it too hard might tear it in half. "Give it back," I snapped, glaring hard at her. Chloe only smiled, then suddenly pointed behind me and shouted, "Uncle Lucian! Come help me!" The second I glanced back, she pulled out a marker and drew a large, bright red scribble right across the center of the painting. White-hot fury flashed through me, and I snatched the canvas from her hands.

Chloe busted into a fit of giggles and said bluntly, “President Clifford, we're lucky that this dough is beige in color. Otherwise, no one would want to eat a pile of chocolate-flavored poop-shaped cookies” Kelvin's expression froze as he stared down at his masterpiece and felt embarrassed. He impatiently there down the things in his hands and said, “You can do it yourself then”. “Someone's sulking” Chloe raised her brows and gave him a gloating look.“All right. it's not like we can't save it–I think there is still a way we can salvage this”. After that, she took a small cranberry from the bag full of cranberries and placed it on the poop shape cookie before using a toothpick to lengthen the

“No, it’s completely normal.” I grined. “What did you do today?” Chloe sighed. “Let’s see. We baked cookies, drew approximately fifteen hundred pictures of Peppa Pig, napped, helped your mom make meat loaf for dinner, then had a big splashy bath. I also discovered I will burn cookies if your mom doesn’t remind me they’re in there and I can’t draw for shit.” “Sounds busy.” “Busy and a little tedious. For Milka, too,” she added, tracing her finger over my tattoo. The casual movement sent shivers through me.

She said, smiling. “Irene, take care of yourself ok?" Chole said out of the blue. She got down from the bed and walked up to me in the closet. I chuckled and nodded. “I will honey, don't worry about me" I gave a warm smile. Chole admired my stuff and asked for my makeup. It was fun watching Chole painting up her face like a professional. She was so concentrated painting up her face like a clown.

Tell me. Chloe carefully unrolled a large sheet of paper on the grass. It showed a big vision board full of drawings, paint colors, and little notes in her nice handwriting. This is my dream gallery, Chloe said with excitement, her cheeks a bit red. A gallery for local artists, a place where anyone can show their art, no matter their background. Michelle sat next to her, looking at the drawings closely. Chloe, this is amazing. I thought maybe... one day, Chloe said softly, when I have enough money, when I feel brave enough.

he calls out into the crowd. A man well over 6’5 comes ,out. He's in chains, I notice, his mouth looks like it's been seen shut. He has different scars on his body, almost eerily similar to Emilios, yet his tattooed are colourful. He is wearing a children's clown cloth, pieces of it stained with blood. His eyes scream murder, his face covered with different tattoos and his hands already bloody. “Meet the crazy clown,” he says. The whole crowd whispers and I drag Emilio down.