Army soldier vs. a clown. Who does not get annoyed by clowns and at times deep down want to smack them? Maybe its their red noses? or is it the big shoes?

Army Soldier vs. Clown…a Love and Hate Story

Private First Class Jake “Bulldog” McCallister had faced plenty of tough situations in his short Army career—brutal PT sessions, chow hall mystery meat, and that one time his rucksack mysteriously caught fire during a field exercise. But none of those experiences prepared him for his ultimate challenge: facing off against a clown.

It all started during the base’s annual Family Fun Day, a cheerful event meant to boost morale. There were bouncy castles, food trucks, and games. But the centerpiece was a traveling circus act, complete with a clown named Bubbles. Now, McCallister had no beef with clowns—until Bubbles came along.

After a morning of polite mingling and getting roped into a three-legged race with his squad leader (which they lost because of “tactical miscommunication”), McCallister decided to check out the circus tent. That’s when he saw him: Bubbles. The clown was juggling flaming batons while riding a unicycle, cackling in a way that could only be described as deeply unsettling.

McCallister frowned. The Army had taught him to stay alert and identify threats, and Bubbles was throwing up more red flags than a malfunctioning semaphore unit.

“Hey, Soldier!” Bubbles called out, wobbling toward him on the unicycle. “You look like you could use a laugh! Wanna join the show?”

McCallister shook his head. “No thanks, I’m good.”

But Bubbles wasn’t deterred. “Oh, come on! Don’t be a tough guy! Let me see that Army face crack a smile!”

McCallister was about to politely decline again when Bubbles whipped out a balloon and started twisting it into some unholy shape. “Here, soldier! It’s a sword! Just like the ones you use in the field, right?”

It wasn’t a sword. It looked more like a bent sausage with an identity crisis. But McCallister, not wanting to cause a scene, took the balloon “weapon” and nodded, hoping that would be the end of it.

Big mistake.

“Now FIGHT ME!” Bubbles shouted, leaping off the unicycle with surprising agility. He wielded his own balloon sword—this one shaped more like an umbrella crossed with a spaghetti noodle—and took a dramatic fencing stance.

McCallister froze. Was this clown serious?

Bubbles lunged, his balloon sword wobbling through the air like a deranged pool noodle. McCallister blocked it instinctively with his “sword,” years of combative training kicking in. But no amount of military discipline could prepare him for what came next.

Bubbles let out a high-pitched battle cry, somersaulted, and launched a cream pie directly at McCallister’s face. The private ducked, narrowly avoiding the pie, which splattered on a nearby Humvee.

“Oh, it’s on,” McCallister muttered under his breath.

The crowd gathered around, eager to see this bizarre showdown unfold. McCallister spun his balloon sword in a wide arc, trying to disarm Bubbles with a well-aimed swipe, but the clown was too quick. Bubbles cartwheeled out of range, honking his red nose menacingly.

McCallister advanced, but Bubbles was ready. “You’ve activated my trap card!” Bubbles yelled, pulling a string from his sleeve. A cascade of confetti exploded from his vest, blinding McCallister for a split second. The clown followed up with a swift poke to McCallister’s shoulder, his balloon sword squeaking loudly upon contact.

“Direct hit!” Bubbles crowed.

“Oh, no you don’t,” McCallister growled, wiping the confetti from his eyes. He charged, ready to end this once and for all, but Bubbles had one last trick up his sleeve—literally. With a flick of his wrist, the clown produced a handkerchief… which kept coming. And coming. And coming. It was like a never-ending rainbow of fabric that wrapped around McCallister’s legs, binding him in place.

The private stumbled, barely managing to stay upright as Bubbles pranced around him, honking triumphantly. The crowd was howling with laughter.

Just as McCallister thought all hope was lost, his squad leader, Sgt. Mason, appeared out of nowhere. “Need backup, Private?”

“Glad you showed up, Sarge. The clown’s slippery.”

Without missing a beat, Mason grabbed a nearby bucket labeled “water.” He approached Bubbles with military precision. The clown, sensing the bucket’s presence, turned around and wagged his finger. “Ah ah ah! It’s not water, Sergeant. It’s—”

Too late. Sgt. Mason tossed the contents of the bucket over Bubbles’ head, drenching him in a cascade of glitter.

Bubbles stood there, sparkling like a disco ball in the afternoon sun, his balloon sword sagging in defeat.

McCallister, now free from the handkerchief trap, wiped his brow. “Sarge, I think we’ve won.”

Mason grinned. “No one defeats an Army Soldier. Not even a clown.”

As Bubbles sulked away in a cloud of glitter and shame, McCallister glanced at his squad leader. “Thanks for the assist, Sarge.”

Mason clapped him on the back. “Anytime, Bulldog. But next time, maybe stick to something easier… like EOD.”

From that day on, McCallister earned the nickname “Clown Slayer,” and Bubbles never challenged another soldier again. The legend of the Army vs. the clown lived on in base lore for years, much to McCallister’s eternal embarrassment.

The Frontlines

It’s hard to believe, but some of the comics I drew during my 20-year military career have been published! These humorous musings might make you laugh or occasionally offend, but they all stem from awesome mentors, great buddies, and a deep appreciation for sarcastic humor. Check it out here on Amazon: Amazon The Frontlines

Check out The Frontlines Shop for an awesome selection of military-themed shirts, mugs, and posters—perfect for anyone who wants to look tactical while sipping coffee or decorating their walls with highly classified motivational quotes. And don’t miss our sale, where prices are dropping faster than your morale on Monday morning!

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