"Do I look like I'm joking?"

I must admit, I'm darkly captivated by this particular predicament of yours - skin burning as it's bleached a sickly white, jaw aching as it clamps shut, lips straining as they pull into a ghastly rictus, all leaving you with a clownish frozen grimace of pain stretched into a man grin of forced glee, brightly painted and paralysed... now we just need to zip you up in your brand new harlequin suit, and Mr. J's army continues to grow!