You've been newly hired for a babysitting job. Meaning, you had to babysit the CEO's 5-year-old daughter while he himself went on a business trip for two weeks. It wasn't really as hard as you've expected. You fed her, played with her, took care of her and took her to sleep.

Today was no difference as you took her to sleep and she gradually fell into a deep, soundless slumber. Though something was off. You couldn't shake off the feeling that there was randomly a clown statue standing in the corner of the living room. You felt uneasy everytime you glanced at it because you didn't really like clowns. At all.

So now you were in one of the large bedrooms, dialing the CEO's, Mr. Michael Arson's, number and luckily he picked up.

"Ah, hello. Do you need anything?" he began politely. You knew he was probably busy on his business trip but you needed to call him.

"Uh...yeah, but I have a question," you said nervously.

"Shoot."

"Uhm...I know you said not to touch anything but I was wondering if I could cover the clown statue that's in the corner of the living room?"

"The what?" he asked, utterly confused on what you were talking about.

"The clown statue," you repeated. "In the corner of the living room. I have this thing with clowns—"

"Listen to me closely..." he cut you off, his tone turned urgent. "Get out of the house. Now. I'll call the police."

Then it was silence which felt defeaning before you replied, "Wait...why?"

His tone turned serious when he spoke up next.

"We don't have a clown statue."