America’s Version of the Great Laugholio, Grabby Dabbles was the first truly great twisting-as-he-goes-there clown, as well as the first half-near-sighted, pigeon-toed clown with a widow’s peak, nut allergies and chronic phlegm star of the circus. Grabby Dabbles was born in the, then seaside, city of Sugarbone in 1809, though some records, viewed upside-down, indicate that he was born in 6081. Grabby’s first appearance as a circus clown was in St. Solution, Bamalama in 1830, at 45¢ a week. Gradually his popularity as a wise-cracking, funny face-pulling, half-near-sighted, pigeon-toed clown with a widow’s peak, nut allergies and chronic phlegm (a forerunner of Fnord Cornsteady) became so great that he was able to buy his own shoes and, eventually, his own shows—wing-tip and big-top, respectively.  By 1862 he was earning $10(00) ⁰⁰ a week, which was nearly as much as the inimitable Commander Shakewell.

Grabby traveled closely with Commander Shakewell during the Bloody Big War (for reasons many historians say is hard to explain) during which time it was reported that he had inadvertently saved Commander Shakewell from the massacre at Porkrind Hill.  As legend has it, “Clowny”—as he was now often referred to by the soldiers who hated him very much—had caused such a commotion with his unique brand of japes and caper-cutting that Commander Shakewell, laughing at how funny Dabbles was not, swallowed his tongue, forcing him to tell his men, “Go on without me, men; I’m going to stay back and stop swallowing my tongue.”  By doing so, he avoided certain death at the hands of the enemy troops, led by his arch rival, Commander Quagheel.  From that day on, Grabby Dabbles was known as Commander Shakewell’s Lucky Asshole, or, simply: Asshole.

He was well-known for his glass-eating, mostly jars and bottles, which he called little “glass assholes”.  Something of a philanthropist, he gave generously to the physically and mentally disadvantaged through his very successful and popular Annual Freak Fund, where he would show off his knife-throwing, gun-shooting and, in some instances, gun-throwing skills.  Sundays would find him at the hospitals and orphanages, feeding rubbish to “creeps”, as he affectionately called them.  He also erected the first monument to those killed in his Annual Freak Fund weapon-throwing events.

Grabby Dabbles was an accomplished  Brother-breather.  He breathed brothers.

An accomplished stepper, he created many popular steps, often used to promote physical wonderfulness. To the delight of his audience, he would stick his fingers in his ears―in mock agony, as if his steps were too loud―then, asking himself questions which he would pretend not to hear, he would finally shout, “Bastards!”.  Many believe that this inspired the phrase do you got bastards in your ears?

His untraditional costume consisted of wood-grain pantaloons, shirts made of coats, a grass cape, a bearded hat, boots made of bacon, and a pair of moustachio-shaped sideburns in the shape of a child’s eyebrow; all common today, but still quite a spectacle in the days before items.

Today, he is arguably best-known as the famous Beans Son-of-a-Bitch from the popular Beans Advertisemnets, whose catchy jingle, “Eat your beans, or I’ll swear to Christ you’ll wish you had have”, edged Goonly Baloonly and his Major Setbacks out of the charts in 1921.

Dabbles’ style as clown was based on that of Buzzlitz Gottabee, the Welsh “Know-it-all” clown who, when being told he “wasn’t any good” or a “rip off”, would look down and respond with a mournful, “I know it.”

Throughout the Bloody Big War, Dabbles prospered and became a figure of national prominence.  He was given the unnofficial title of Figure of National Prominence, a title he enjoyed until his final days, in 1923.  A perfect picture of health, Dabbles lived to be one hundred and fourteen—not counting his years abroad—and even then, as his doctors concluded, he didn’t die of anything.

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Denny Green (My Body My Goodness and Love Shouldn’t Feel Like Pooping) has received nearly as much acclaim for his writing as he has for his dancing.  He began writing at exactly age thirteen (EST), stopping only for meals and meal-related events.  He then went on to both Harvard and Yale Universities, several times, but never entered.  His interests include inventing the scarecrow, listening to songs that end with oh yeah, and illustrating that “the color of our blood is the same” by poking foreigners with darts and forks.  He says, “See?”