Babbs in the Woods: Move over Bigfoot, here comes the Feral Clown

Here in Missouri we have a problem with meth labs in our woods. In fact, I heard that Missouri is #1 in the nation for meth production. But there’s another dangerous “thing” in the woods, and it takes the form of a feral clown. The FC made the pages of Field & Stream a couple of years ago, but before that, I interviewed the FC. It’s important to get the word out about this character, because it’s apparent that the FC has expanded his territory and no turkey habitat is safe.

Here’s the scenario: Some hunters sit around the campfire, telling jokes with their buddies, having a drink or two and reliving that day’s hunting tales. A few urban legend tales from the good old times in Boy Scout camp get retold and everybody laughs and then everybody is quiet, thinking, “What if?”
 And then … what is that sound in the woods to the left, to the right, all around them and behind them? It sounds like evil snickering.
 The crew decides to turn in, but each one checks his sleeping bag and tent area, just in case.
The next morning, a small orange sits on the camp picnic table. No one touches it, because somewhere, someone has heard of the identity of he-who-traps-with-oranges. Immediately, without rolling up sleeping bags or putting out the campfire properly, the entire camp shuts down and all the buddies head home two days early and much to their wives’ surprise.

The hunters tell their buddies about the orange sighting and the strange odor that fills the woods – not of any musk of any animal they have ever hunted before, but a heady combination of the stench of rotten teeth and putrid pork.

The FC's breath probably knocked over the photographer.

Eventually, someone tells a conservation agent with the Missouri Department of Conservation, and the MDC promptly denies sightings of he-who-traps-with-oranges, and then classifies as top-secret any information it has received about this menace in the woods – the FC.

It is time, however, to reveal the evil cannibalistic ways of the FC and to put all turkey hunters everywhere on red-nose alert status.

Strangely enough, there is one human that the FC relates to, and that is world-renowned turkey hunter Ray Eye. Through Eye, and possibly the use of heavy sedation, the FC agreed to answer questions posed by me through e-mail.

One of the most surprising facts that sprang from the interview is that there are more FCs in the world than just the one who talks to Eye. In fact, the FC admitted, “One of our own is among your type.”

Here's the FC in the Missouri Woods, near the Big PIney River.

He continued on his FC rampage, “He is a clown, but no one knows it. He talks to the animals and goes everywhere making sounds. He even has a record and video, and he used to work for the Missouri Department of Conservation and infiltrated the ranks. He now feeds us good information about you people.”

The FC claims he received his upbringing on the rodeo circuit and never knew his father, but suspected that his father’s name might be Bozo. He cannot recall exactly when he left the arena for the woods.

When he went to the wild side, he found a set of surrogate clown parents. His mentor, Corkey, an old cannibal FC, taught him how to walk and eat on the wild side. He said, “I got my education from learning firsthand how to scare, pester and give nightmares to hunters and fishermen. Corkey taught me which ones would taste better.”

His parents and Corkey schooled him by using materials from Dr. Doolittle’s correspondence course on “How to Talk to the Animals.” The FC said, “Yes, we all talk to the animals. That is how we catch some dumb turkey hunters – we call like a gobbler and the meal just comes to us.”

And here's the FC in Hawaii, illustrating the point that he's everywhere and so are his ilk.

He continued, “I can imitate anything. I use my voice to call people. Hey, I can sound like a kid in trouble. I can even sound like one of the guys you are hunting with to call a guy into the dark.”

In one of his sicker moments, the FC confessed, “I can sound like a female person that wants to mate. I get a lot of deer hunters with that one.”

According to the FC, all feral clowns talk to each other using various animal languages. He bragged, “All those owls you hear in the spring? Most are clowns calling to each other as we close in for a kill.”

The FC community is a close-knit group, often attending clown conventions, rodeos and parades dressed as themselves. The FC admits some of his clown brothers have been elected to Congress, but always shed their clown suits and make-up before arriving in Washington D.C.

In his demented state, the FC stated, “I am loved by other clowns.”

He also confessed, “I like only a few people, or I would not be doing this interview.” At this point in the interview, the FC went on another rant: “Most people are self-serving idiot know-it-alls. Most are liberals and a big fat liberal bird watcher tree hugger is my favorite morning meal.”

By this point in the interview, the FC filled the page with “hee hee hee’s” and also threats to this writer, forgetting that supposedly I am a person whom he admires and respects.

I urge all wildlife departments that FCs must be captured and locked up. A rehabilitation program should then be created for these miscreants, or perhaps they should be sent to Florida to work in orange juice factories.

Until we round up all the FCs, no one is safe in the woods or on the water.

Ray has invited me a few times to meet him and some outdoor writer types at a turkey camp in northwest Missouri and I won’t go. … I don’t want that Feral Clown coming anywhere near me. ~Barbara Baird


  • About Barbara Baird

    Publisher/Editor Barbara Baird is a freelance writer in hunting, shooting and outdoor markets. Her bylines are found at several top hunting and shooting publications. She also is a travel writer, and you can follow her at


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