It was a scrape that he hardly noticed. Sure, there was a bit of blood but it was minor compared to most of the other cuts and bruises he acquired on his adventures. There was no way he could know that the rock that produced the cut had alien genetic material on it that was now racing through his bloodstream. He felt perfectly normal and continued his adventure with no knowledge of what was about to happen to him.
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The paper was blank. It shouldn't have been. There should have been writing on the paper, at least a paragraph if not more. The fact that the writing wasn't there was frustrating. Actually, it was even more than frustrating. It was downright distressing.
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The clowns had taken over. And yes, they were literally clowns. Over 100 had appeared out of a small VW bug that had been driven up to the bank. Now they were all inside and had taken it over.
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