Circuses are scary. Clowns are scary. Who decided that they are full of fun and appropriate for children?

Could it be... the Wilton company?

Here's another lovely bucket of cheese from the early 60s.

This baby is so incredibly chock full of tacky wonder (you can get just a taste from that beautiful cover) that I'm limiting myself to circus stuff only. Believe me, it will be more than enough.

The start of any circus worth its sugar is the colorful parade. With sugar animals disturbingly out of scale: that's either one tiny elephant or one huge-ass monkey. This train is a total rip-off, cakewise. All that fuss for three tiny little edible squares. And what is it about clown makeup that makes them look like mean, mean drunks? Nothing says "embittered" quite like an enormous painted smile.

Speaking of cake ripoffs, this huge display has hardly any cake at all, just the top half of the balloon. Miserly bastards. But it does feature another pair of drunken clowns: check out the jug marked XXX sitting between the right clown's legs. And while you're at it, any ideas on what that ring thing he's holding is for? The position is vaguely sexual, but the size seems absurdly optimistic.

Here's a happy little scene that embarrasses even the horses. (They look about as happy as those poor little Mexican burros painted like zebras for tourist photos.) This is yet another big to-do for minor amounts of cake. And yet another example of drunken clownship. I mean, look at this guy.

Would any person within spitting distance of sobriety ever choose to look like this?Is this some samurai thing? Or a kewpie doll's tweaker brother who has to register with the authorities whenever he moves?

Have I mentioned drunken clowns? I have? Well, here's another one.

This guy looks terminally loaded. Without the big-toed shoes, he'd keel over frontwards, right onto that enormous schnozz that no 12-step program will ever shrink. Kinda looks like Jimmy Durante on prednisone. With ambiguous and vaguely offensive hand gestures. Fortunately, he's made of royal icing and styrofoam so the kiddies won't endure the trauma of eating him. (I think he'd taste like brandy anyway. Or maybe pickles.) Unfortunately, he'll stay fresh for weeks.

I've saved the best drunken clown for last. This guy would give Quentin Tarentino nightmares.

Is it the angry brows? The distended nose? The snaggle teeth? Whatever. Present this cake to a group of three-year-olds and watch their little faces crumble in terror.

That jaunty little Peter Pan hat can't redeem his evil soul. I think he killed and ate Peter, and now...uh...entertains Tinkerbell in his basement.

Sweet, sweet dreams!