Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Nothing could have prepared me for what lay in store.
Remember the mongeese? They were ready and waiting.
After visiting with the Bs (i.e.-taking a crapper into their respective shoes) I made my way up the driveway towards the highway. Ya coulda knocked me over with a dastardly thought. Making my way, slowly, up the drive in the LRT, I passed by mongoose after mongoose. They were lining the driveway on both sides in unimaginable numbers.
Every one stood at attention on his/her hind legs and 'waved' to me. I heard a "O captain, my captain," float to me across the still air. Some random slow clapping also permeated the stillness. As I neared the top I saw the widow of my nemesis with a pic of her dead husband.
Stopping the car (thank god I set the parking break and turned the tires or disaster surely would have struck) I walked over to her and knelt down. She bowed her head once and let a smile tease across her weasely lips.
Overcome with emotion I leaned forward and my moistened lips rested atop her furry head and I kissed it (her head, not my glistening lips). She made a feint to her right and came at me from the left. I dodged her attack but could not avoid the throngs that followed her lead. A setup!
Grabbing hold of a papaya tree I tore its soggy trunk from the lava strewn ground and prepared to make my final stand. Snarls broke from deep in my throat and caused three vermin to pause in their assault. Too bad for them, as I scattered unripened papaya upon them and splattered fur and blood and weasel guts across the asphalt.
Imagine Keanu ('Whoa') Reeves in the Matrix II (I forget the name) as he fought the Smiths on the playground. That was me, only I am much more communicative than KR (and cuter too, in my opinion), the Smiths were furry little devil weasels, and I was fighting with an uprooted papaya tree instead of a pipe. And I don't think I am stuck in a computer generated world fighting to free the human race. I was simply trying to avoid becoming mongoose food.
So there I was, swinging wildly, jumping off the sides of avocado trees and knocking bundles of mongeese across the yard and the Bs looked on and laughed maniacally. I was keeping them at bay, but it was tough. And I was losing ground.
Desperation began taking root in the depths of my soul. I'd need some help in eliminating these asshole bags of fur. Big Papaya (the moniker I gave my tree of salvation) cleared me a trail to the highway and I made my move.
There I was. Sprinting down the middle of the highway (a two-lane 45mph roadway), tossing a papaya tree off to the side, desperate for salvation.
Salvation appeared in the form of a caravan of shittey pick-ups driven by headstrong locals. Seeing my plight (they hate the buggers) I heard downshifting and roaring engines. Waiting until the last second, I maintained my line down the centerline. At the last possible second I dove off the cliff to my left and narrowly missed getting clipped by Pick-up 1's front bumper.
Ten minutes later I regained the highway and gave witness to the carnage. One straggler managed to avoid boiling rubber and came at me. I grabbed him (her?) by the tail and fling him (her?) off the cliff into oblivion.
The LRT was still in place atop the driveway.
In I climbed and home I drove.
And drew a hot bubbly bath and drank a glass of wine while listening to Yanni while candles slowly burned down all around me.
Oddly enough, a monkey proceeded to fly outta my arse and spoil the mood.
So it goes