Saturday, August 31, 2013

On The Other Foot

    "I think an iris looks like a mutilated vagina," Danny said as he whacked at the group of flowers with his stick. Justin, being eleven and all, found this to be the funniest shit ever and laughed so hard he almost peed. This was the case most of the time, though. Danny was the compulsory wisecrack of the two and Justin found himself constantly laughing at everything his best friend said, he couldn't help it.
    "DANIEL WILLIAMS... I HEARD THAT! NOT FUNNY, MISTER!" his mother yelled through the open window of her kitchen. She was putting together the ingredients needed to bake a cake, seeing how tomorrow was her son's birthday. Danny would be turning twelve, or as he put it, 'turning the dirty dozen'. She leaned forward to yell again, "AND GOD HELP YOU IF YOU ARE DESTROYING MY FLOWER BED... I WILL DESTROY YOU, MISTER!" She had the habit of calling him 'mister' whenever Justin was around, maybe in an attempt to elevate his stature to a level of proper verbal discipline for all the wrong-doings the two would assuredly commit. Whatever the reason, it too, made Justin laugh uncontrollably.

    "Ahhh-haaa... oh man... you got busted... MISTER!" Justin yelped between fits of laughter.
    "The heck you talkin' bout, YOU got busted too!" Danny replied as he tossed his stick to the ground. "Come on, I'm bored, let's go rotate the whiskers on Myra's cat."
    They began walking toward the edge of the front yard, kicking at every toy that littered their path along the way. Danny had stopped playing with most of his toys two birthdays ago, but didn't have the heart to tell his mother that he had 'grown up', and so she continued buying him useless pieces of plastic that didn't interest him much. Upon reaching the curb he paused to holler and let her know where they were headed, but she called them both back to the house.
    "Aw heck, mom, but we're BORED for crying out loud! We just want to GO!" Danny yelled.
    "You'll go as soon as you come here first, mister! Heel-toe, donchya know?!" his mom yelled back.
Disgruntled, the two turned back for the house, kicking toys as they went. They went inside and upon reaching the edge of the kitchen, stopped to smell the goodness of tomorrow's treats.
    "Mmmm, Ms. Williams, it smells delicious in here!" Justin remarked.
    Danny nudged him with his elbow, "Shhh, she'll make us stay and wash dishes, ya goon."
    "Actually, ya goon, it's your birthday weekend. Do you honestly think I'd ask you to do dishes? Correct me if I'm wrong, but who's the coolest mom in town? Yeah, I thought so," she said as she dried her hands on her apron and walked over to the cupboard. Opening the pantry door, she reached up and removed a package from the upper shelf and set it on the counter. "There... open it! It's an early present," she winked.
    Danny smiled big, looked over at Justin, smiled bigger, and then lunged for the blue package in glee. Regardless of how many useless toys littered his yard, he still very much enjoyed opening new ones. The wrapping paper came off in a hurry and Danny stood there in awe, holding onto the one thing he wanted more than anything else in the world: The Water Propelled Poopapult.
    "Omg, mom!! It's the Poopapult! You really got me the Poopapult! Omg, thank you, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!! POOPAPULT!!" Danny exclaimed as he ran over and hugged her fiercely. Maybe it was the way he emphasized poop each time he said Poopapult, but Justin completely lost it and was now lying on the floor giggling like a drunk duck.
    Pleased with her son's reaction, Ms. Williams said, "I'm glad you love it, son. I didn't want to wait until tomorrow and have you open it in front of your friends. I knew how much you wanted this and I knew how much you would overreact to getting it, so I decided to let you open it today instead. Now, run away and let me cook, ya goon!"
    Both Danny and Justin hugged her and thanked her and ran out of the kitchen and straight to the water spigot on the side of the house. They filled up the main water canister and also the spare and headed off down the sidewalk in search of their first target. When they reached the end of the block they saw Cleospatula being pulled along in a pink wagon by her big brown mastiff. She crafted reigns out of jump rope and attached those to the dog's collar. She had an umbrella duct taped and positioned over her head and a few balloons attached as well. Her dog, Otis, simply chugged along, completely at peace with the obligatory task of pulling her wherever she went. This is how she acquired her nickname. The first few times she had done this she used a spatula to smack the metal floor of her wagon, thus startling Otis into walking faster, but after being called Cleospatula by almost every kid on the block, she left the utensil at home, but the nickname stuck anyway.
    They watched as Cleospatula rounded the corner of Alder Street and disappeared from view.
    "We could cut through Doberman Alley and ambush her on the other side," Danny said as he surveyed the nearby yard for dog shit.
    "Yeh, that would work I think," Justin agreed as he scooped up an older clump of doo and tossed it into the discharge tube.
    "Dude, that doo-doo rocks!"
    Combined laughter.
    "Gonna shit her like a ton of bricks!"
    More laughter.
    "Crap all over your face, kiiiiid!"
    They both laughed as they collected various piles of poop and added it to the discharge tube before heading off through the alley. As they neared the alley's end they positioned themselves behind two metal garbage cans that blocked the view of anyone approaching from the north side of Alder St, knelt down and began setting up the Poopapult. Danny figured they had about four minutes before Cleospatula and her slave dog wheeled their way into firing range... plenty of time to prepare. Even though he had never had his hands on one before now, Danny had watched enough YouTube videos to know exactly how to assemble and fire the Poopapult perfectly and without ease. Together, they had it assembled and ready to launch in less than a minute and a half.
    "Awesome, it's good to go! Hand me the water canister, would ya?" Danny asked.
    Justin turned and reached for the main canister and as he did so, noticed a triangular shaped group of red lights beamed onto the ground next to him.
    "What the heck?"
    "What's wrong? Don't tell me you lost it already!"
    "No, no, it's right here, but I just saw these weird lights... look..."
    He turned back to show Danny what he saw, but they were no longer there. Danny nudged him and told him to stop messing and reminded him that it was almost time to launch. They both turned their attention back to the mission and waited for Cleospatula and Otis to appear. Giggling with anticipation, they each began poking one another, trying to knock themselves off balance as they crouched on their heels behind the cans.
    "Dude, come on!"
    "You started it, goon!"
    "You're going to give us away!"
    They both laughed wildly as Justin rocked backwards, bumping into one of the cans, causing it to bang against the brick building next to them.
    "Oh for Pete's sake, here she comes! SHHHH!"
    They quieted down and readied themselves. Justin held the base of the Poopapult while Danny affixed the water canister to the main launch tube and twisted the nozzle. The wheels of the wagon could be heard squeaking and crunching along the concrete walk, and as it neared them, Otis' panting became audible as did Cleospatula's soft humming beneath her umbrella.
    Danny turned to Justin and whispered, "Five... four... three..." He pivoted the aiming reticule forward and calculated the trajectory, "two... one... launch!"
    There was a hissing sound as water gushed into the launch tube, followed by a WOOSH as the mechanism pushed out the poop and sent it hurling through the air. Danny and Justin followed the brown blob with their eyes, smiling gleefully as it sailed through the air, arcing high above and then dropping fast toward their intended target. Seconds before impact... Danny anticipates a direct hit and grabs Justin's arm in excitement... and then...

    The explosion was so powerful it rocked the entire city block and could be heard several miles away. Windows within a half mile radius were completely shattered, car and house alarms rang out, and the buildings around the impact zone lay in rubble. As the smoke lifted, the chaos and destruction that remained became more clear. A twisted mess of pink metal with a wheel and tattered umbrella lay in a mangled heap across the street. Near it, a battered and bloody little girl lay screaming in agony while clutching the neck of the upper half of a bull mastiff. The lower half was nowhere in sight. On the opposite side of the street, the apparent location of ground zero was marked by a still smoldering impact crater that measured approximately thirty feet in diameter. Scattered around it were the dismembered body parts of two unrecognizable children. About a hundred yards away, a metal garbage can was still spinning and finally came to rest. The blood splattered across its dented frame was an ominous painting of immortality, and trapped inside was a badly broken children's toy with a still legible label that read: "The Poopapult... Poop, Scoop & Shoot!"


Later that night on Radiotélévision des Forces Canadiennes, FOX Channel 10:

"The Canadian Province of Quebec has announced that, due to ongoing terrorist activity within Montreal and it's suspected affiliations across border with neighboring America, a third successful drone attack, this time in the town of Burlington, Vermont, has been reported. According to Canadian intelligence, two enemy insurgents were spotted during a training mission, deploying a roadside explosive device that would later be used in the ongoing war against Canada. In this latest drone advancement the Motherland has again deterred future crime against her, thus reinforcing her safety and sovereignty by targeting high-profile terrorist targets in and along all American border towns. Our intelligence ensures that zero innocent casualties were reported in this latest strike, thus bringing the C.D.P. (Canadian Drone Program) to a 97% accuracy rate. And here's Nina with your 6 o'clock traffic report, take it away, Nina."

    "Thank you, Thom. Trans-Canada Hwy 25 west of Parc de l'Île Charron is backed up due to a stalled vehicle, expect a 30-45 minute delay..."

                                                                        The End

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Listen Up, America

I've had several people ask me why I'm a "prepper" and in response I'd like to say that "prepping" is a term that gets misused often, and the concept gets abused even more, so I will relinquish my own thoughts and share with you a 58 minute audio clip that I hope EVERYONE listens to. It's pretty important, and if you care about America like I do, then maybe you'll give up an hour of your time and listen. I don't seek out stupid shit to listen to, ya'll should know this by now. Some people go to church, well, I go to school... and school is in session. Here ya go.