His face was darker and younger, minus the exaggerated clown paint. Without the white foundation and blue kohl, his skin was the sepia shade of a photograph, like a good tan. Instead of white with a little blue heart, his lips were a rosy color that blended into his skin at the corners. Flat planes and sharp angles were better revealed in workout clothes than in clown fat costumes, that hip-less torso reminding Red of the sturdy metal shaft of a protruding nail. It relieved him to see muscles that one usually sees on athletes, tracks of hard and ropey smoothness running down his arms and legs. Unfortunately, however, that was his real troll hair hanging in tangled curls around his head and neck, not a wig.