"How?"
Suddenly it comes to him.
He lifts up his shirt, wets his finger, draws a cirle around his nipple, all the while singing Barnum's Circus March. "Do-do-doodle-doodle-do-do-do-do...."
He whispers, "It's called 'CLOWNING.' Depending on the patterning around your nipple - it will act as a code."
***
"And this was some sort of espionage dream?" I ask. It's bright and early Saturday morning. David has just demonstrated 'CLOWNING' to me.
David's eyebrows are low on his forehead. "Yes... I think... Wait! Wait!" He fights for memories, as one does when attempting to share the surreality of a dreamscape to another person. "We were also filming it!"
"You were filming yourself, playing with your nipples, while singing Entry of the Gladiators?"
"Yeeeeeeesss.... but," he's rubbing his forehead now. "I can't remember why it was so important now... It was some sort of Rickrolling thing...."
"But this was somehow part of a secret code?"
"Yes." He is definite now. "Yes, it was. And when you watched the video the code became clear to you."
"I'm going to get mileage out of this."
"Yeah, yeah."
***
ps.
Since Saturday morning (when I first heard about this new trend), I have personally 'clowned' over a dozen times. I have clowned David another dozen. When I am 102 I will still be doing this.
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