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Caption Contest

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"All right, which of you delightful clowns want to show me your hot buns?"
 
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"Uh, wrong, lady, obviously you're describing the freaking Hamburglar, which I am clearly not! Jesus, did you gravely keep missing that short bus far too many times or what?"
 
In the year 2025, automation has rendered clown school the last best option for employment.
 
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Fred (pictured, left, sitting down) just sat there, contemplating. He'd started on the grill, flipping burgers. The local manager soon recognized his potential and promoted him to crew chief. After that, the promotions came steadily as he advanced through the positions of shift manger, manager trainee, assistant manager, manager, then regional manager. For decades he continued the arduous climb through the rarefied echelons at the corporate level. The job description at the apex of the corporate level ... well, it just wasn't what he had expected.
 
I have a couple of late entries to munch on while we are waiting:

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"Hey, buddy, please don't talk to me about Trump, because he has definitely given the great color of orange an immorally wretched reputation lately!"


"Look, I plainly work there, lady, and even though I am not quite certain what Chicken McNuggets® are made out of, it sure as hell ain't chicken!"
 
Now, a light afternoon snack:

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"Whoa, so here is one more finally off my bucket list! Yeah, ever since I first saw the circus, I have always wanted to ride in a clown car!"
 
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"Oh, come on, Fred, you gotta get yourself to a hair stylist right quick, because your ugly roots are seriously showing!"
 
Adding two more for the evening:

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"Ah, I think I understand you guys. So, instead of saying 'I'm Spartacus,' you are saying 'I'm Ronald McDonald?'"


"Okay, stop laughing and listen, since I'm being totally honest here, I want you to be totally honest with me! Does this outfit make me look fat?"
 
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The script quickly changed from horror comedy to kitchy masterpiece when the title character was switched to John Malkovich.
 
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"Er, no, 'Polly' wants a hefty blunt and eight Governor Christie-sized fingers of bourbon, yet she will benevolently settle for this delectable polystyrene foam you are now so magnanimously doling out."
 
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