The City Clowncil sitting week started off with a bang (or, rather, with a silent ‘pop!’ flag unfurling from a pistol).

As Question Time progressed - bringing reports on new unicycle lanes, juggling programs for the unemployed, and the Brisbane Metro - an unwelcome presence in the visitors’ gallery drew murmurs from the Clowncil benches.

A group of spectators, hair undyed, faces unpainted, dressed to the nines in business casual, seated silently with their notepads drawn.

“I see the party police have decided to join us!” crowed Lord Mayor Boingo McChuckles, as a chorus of honking noses built to a crescendo.

“Why don’t you go put on your regular-sized shoes and skedaddle!”

Security eventually shooed the spectators out of the chamber (by way of water-squirting flower).

Confronted about the incident as the Clowncillors piled into their one tiny car at the end of the day, Cr Pogo Bogo commented: “I’m all for public acclowntability, and my temper’s usually as long as this handkerchief [said as she pulled one from her sleeve].”

“But you know what they say… the show must go on.”

Cr Pierrot le Mime declined to comment, but offered a heartstring-pulling performance depicting his existential feelings of imprisonment in a box of his own making.

Spokespeople for the observers, the disappointingly named Lucy Nicholls and Tom Carmody, remain undeterred in their quest for transparency.

“The people of Brisbane want answers. We are done saying, ‘Not my circus, not my monkeys.’”

More to come.