He looked at the mirror for one last time before proceeding towards the door of his dressing room. He slowly inspected his face.
“Looks good,” he thought. “The perfect smile.”
He ran out to the centre of the ring. The crowd went wild, giving him the biggest round of applause that they had given all night. He took of his big hat and took a bow, acknowledging the crowd. Then suddenly, he pulled a rabbit out from his hat. The crowd cheered in amazement. He smiled, pausing to wipe the sweat that dripped down his brow. He did it carefully to avoid smearing the make-up that was on his face.
He ran around the ring, doing much foolish stuff that was practiced for years. He made a complete fool out of himself, much to the delight of the crowd. It was probably tricks and stunts that were familiar and overused, but somehow, the crowd still took it in and was greatly entertained.
He juggled, cycled on the unicycle, and messed around with his counterparts until his time was up. Then he took another bow before cart wheeling his way out. The crowd loved him and gave him a thunderous applause.
He walked to his dressing room slowly while taking off the gloves on his hand. He reached his dressing table and took of his hat and wig, then let his backside drop to the chair with a loud sigh.
“What would they know?”
He wiped of the face paint that covered his face, revealing a sad, wrinkled and long face. He grabbed a cigar from a tin can and lighted it. Forlornly, he walked with heavy steps outside. Smoking his cigar, he reflected on reality. There was no real smile, no real happiness. There was no applause for the stuff that he did and had done before.
It was all but a show. Nothing was real. Nothing at all.