.
"I hoped it was going to be a wild, crazy night, in town. (I still have lots of fireworks)"
Not anymore
Antz.
Remember? You had 'em all piled up there on the lawn next to your cabana. Well, one of your neighbors' kid dared me to light just one of 'em. I did. I'm not much of a pyrotechnics expert, but I do know how to operate a safety match...I had no idea
the whole batch would go up. Why would that happen
Antz? Spontaneous assumption I 'spose?
Very sorry for your loss, but you hafta' admit the dazzling show that I started really got your backyard BBQ to hoppin'...like I lit a fire under it! No standing around idly talking 'bout baseball after your stash started to do it's thing. Nice neighbors you have
Antz. For some reason they took a liking to me. I wondered why so many of them kept pointing me out and then coming up to shake my hand. A solid mystery 'til I saw the video. They nicknamed me '
The Blightbuster...the man with a match'. I don't think they liked me so much as they loved what I did.
On the video, if you listen closely, you can hear in the background that most all of your neighbors were pretty excited. Why? The buzz is they never approved of your choice of colors for your cabana. Pea green and passionate purple? With fire engine red accents? It was like
The Color Kittens gone berserk after losing a kindergarten coloring contest. Mad as he11 and not gonna' take it anymore! Not at all easy on the eyes. A stomach turning
Meow Mix® if there ever were!
And that red you weren't skimpy with...or too careful with either? Same color as the shiny rig your fire department promptly showed up with. Did you know they drafted your pool nearly dry? Mr.
Gorman® and Mr.
Rupp® really suck at their job...and that's a compliment. They probably don't get to do that too often. How convenient for them. I know the smoke eatin' brigade enjoyed the chow you gave to all of 'em after things cooled down. Boy were they hungry...I've never seen two dozen brats disappear so quickly. One tasty sausage still had a bottle rocket jammed into it. It's guidance system obviously taken over by someone sitting with a laptop somewhere outside of Tehran. But that lil' warhead didn't slow the helmeted fireman down at all. I think he liked it...just the right amount of crunch tinged with danger. And not once did any of them complain 'bout the sulphury aftertaste. No hot wings, but plenty of water ones. Firemen...you gotta' love 'em!
The folks in the neighborhood gang were glad to see that shed of yours turned into nothing more than a smoldering heap of charred 2x4's and twisted metal flashing. Some of 'em even kept pitching some of the few unburned pieces back onto the embers. One guy, Frank I believe, said "I love the smell of
Antz's burning cabana in the wee hours of the morning!" His wife Phyllis agreed. I think it was their kid who gave me the matchbook. You might know him
Antz...towheaded? With one ear noticeably lower than the other? Nice kid. Handsome too...if you tilt your head just so.
I'll be by next weekend with a pickup load of sod from that Prussian King's
Depot®. Do you think one load will be enough
Antz? May have to bring in some replacement soil too...once it's scorched this bad it won't grow much more than an occasional mud puddle. And as for the cabana...that'll have to wait. The neighbors are getting organized and they said their ultimatum would take a great deal of thought and a bucketful of color chips. Maybe a couple of months or so.
.
