Wednesday, August 25, 2004
JP 1 Wasps 0
So I'm taking out the garbage over the weekend, not knowing I was about to participate in a game of life and death with the most evil insect known to man, the killer wasp. I've got one of those huge containers with the attached lid that flips back and forth that are supplied by the garbage company and there's a ridge around the top that's about 3 inches wide...a perfect place for a rogue gang of wasps to lie in wait for an unsuspecting victim, namely me.
I flip the lid back, throw the trash bag in and flip the lid back down. As always, it lands with a loud thud which, apparently, juvenile delinquent wasps do not appreciate. I'm standing there looking at my Suburban, wondering if I should buy a new set of rims for it, when I see kamikaze motherfucker number one heading right at me. I instinctively duck and hear him buzz right past my head. I step back to try and see where he went and finally find him hovering by the edge of the roof. Right about that time, Goose and Maverick decide to come at me at Mach 6 and, in a futile attempt to divert them, I yell "Negative Ghost Rider. The pattern’s full." It doesn’t work. I panic.
Let’s just say I’m not as fast as I used to be. I’m running around the corner of the house when the first preemptive strike hits. BZZZTTT! Son of a bitch! He fricking stung me on my back! That’s against the rules, man. You can’t sting somebody when their back’s turned. It’s at that point that I realize I’m not in a battle with rational wasps. I don’t know if the second one is still behind me so I keep running until I’m in the front yard. I try to rub my wound but he got me in such a place that I can’t reach it. So there I am, running into the street, flailing at my back, cursing like a sailor, when I notice a group of people from the community taking a leisurely walk past my place. Of course, they’re all staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.
Me: "Wasps."
Dumbass #1: "Be careful. Those things hurt when they sting you."
Me: "Thanks. I’ll remember that."
Dumbass #2: "You should spray the nest."
Me: "Never thought of that."
I turn around and don’t see any other of the hellish beasts so I start devising how to best inflict my Shock and Awe campaign. I head inside and grab the can of wasp spray as my wife asks, "Where have you been? You went to take out the garbage 5 minutes ago."
Me: "There’s a wasp nest on the garbage can."
Her: "I know. I told you about it yesterday."
Me: "No you didn’t."
Her: "Well I thought I did."
Me: "Well I wish you did. I just got stung."
Her: "Does it hurt?"
Me: "Nah, I’m going back out for some more. Of course it hurts! Go see if we’ve got anything to put on it."
I head out the door and decide to sneak up from the rear to get a better view of exactly where the nest is located on the garbage can. I get on my hands and knees and slowly creep towards the intended target. Nothing on this side. I move to the left. Nothing here either. It must be on the back. I look up to see if there are any bogies in the air and decide it’s safe to get closer. Ah, now I see it. I shake the can up and point it at the enemy’s home base.
AMBUSH!
Holy Mother of God! They’re all over the place! I roll to the left until I’m off the sidewalk and in the grass. In the process, I dropped my wasp spray right by the garbage can. Now I’m really fucked. I take off running into the back like a little girl again, trying to get away from these bastards. As luck would have it, two of my neighbors are sitting on their patios, pretty much laughing their asses off.
Neighbor: "Wasps?"
Me: "Yeah."
Neighbor: "Got any spray?"
Me: "Well, I did."
Neighbor: "Can I borrow some milk?"
Me: "What?"
Neighbor: "Can I borrow some milk?"
Me: "Whatever."
The whole time I’m bobbing and weaving more than Ali vs. Frazier, trying to avoid another sting. They finally quit following me and I assess the damage: Two more stings, a cut knee and numerous grass stains. That’s it you assholes. Now you’re dead. I start walking toward the scene of the crime, slowly speeding up. Faster. Faster. Now a full sprint as I let out my war cry.
AAAGGGHHH!!!
I slide head first for the spray, scoop it up, and start spraying, all in one fluid motion. I must have surprised them because they didn’t have a chance to react. I unloaded all my ammunition in a matter of seconds and stepped back to see what would happen. One by one they started to fall to the concrete, quivering for a few seconds, then lying motionless. I’m not satisfied and continue to empty the spray can on their lifeless bodies.
DIE! DIE! DIE!
I stand there for a few moments, swelling with pride and quietly reflect on the battle and my overwhelming triumph. I inhale deeply and exclaim, "I love the smell of wasp spray in the morning. It smells like….victory."
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I flip the lid back, throw the trash bag in and flip the lid back down. As always, it lands with a loud thud which, apparently, juvenile delinquent wasps do not appreciate. I'm standing there looking at my Suburban, wondering if I should buy a new set of rims for it, when I see kamikaze motherfucker number one heading right at me. I instinctively duck and hear him buzz right past my head. I step back to try and see where he went and finally find him hovering by the edge of the roof. Right about that time, Goose and Maverick decide to come at me at Mach 6 and, in a futile attempt to divert them, I yell "Negative Ghost Rider. The pattern’s full." It doesn’t work. I panic.
Let’s just say I’m not as fast as I used to be. I’m running around the corner of the house when the first preemptive strike hits. BZZZTTT! Son of a bitch! He fricking stung me on my back! That’s against the rules, man. You can’t sting somebody when their back’s turned. It’s at that point that I realize I’m not in a battle with rational wasps. I don’t know if the second one is still behind me so I keep running until I’m in the front yard. I try to rub my wound but he got me in such a place that I can’t reach it. So there I am, running into the street, flailing at my back, cursing like a sailor, when I notice a group of people from the community taking a leisurely walk past my place. Of course, they’re all staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.
Me: "Wasps."
Dumbass #1: "Be careful. Those things hurt when they sting you."
Me: "Thanks. I’ll remember that."
Dumbass #2: "You should spray the nest."
Me: "Never thought of that."
I turn around and don’t see any other of the hellish beasts so I start devising how to best inflict my Shock and Awe campaign. I head inside and grab the can of wasp spray as my wife asks, "Where have you been? You went to take out the garbage 5 minutes ago."
Me: "There’s a wasp nest on the garbage can."
Her: "I know. I told you about it yesterday."
Me: "No you didn’t."
Her: "Well I thought I did."
Me: "Well I wish you did. I just got stung."
Her: "Does it hurt?"
Me: "Nah, I’m going back out for some more. Of course it hurts! Go see if we’ve got anything to put on it."
I head out the door and decide to sneak up from the rear to get a better view of exactly where the nest is located on the garbage can. I get on my hands and knees and slowly creep towards the intended target. Nothing on this side. I move to the left. Nothing here either. It must be on the back. I look up to see if there are any bogies in the air and decide it’s safe to get closer. Ah, now I see it. I shake the can up and point it at the enemy’s home base.
AMBUSH!
Holy Mother of God! They’re all over the place! I roll to the left until I’m off the sidewalk and in the grass. In the process, I dropped my wasp spray right by the garbage can. Now I’m really fucked. I take off running into the back like a little girl again, trying to get away from these bastards. As luck would have it, two of my neighbors are sitting on their patios, pretty much laughing their asses off.
Neighbor: "Wasps?"
Me: "Yeah."
Neighbor: "Got any spray?"
Me: "Well, I did."
Neighbor: "Can I borrow some milk?"
Me: "What?"
Neighbor: "Can I borrow some milk?"
Me: "Whatever."
The whole time I’m bobbing and weaving more than Ali vs. Frazier, trying to avoid another sting. They finally quit following me and I assess the damage: Two more stings, a cut knee and numerous grass stains. That’s it you assholes. Now you’re dead. I start walking toward the scene of the crime, slowly speeding up. Faster. Faster. Now a full sprint as I let out my war cry.
AAAGGGHHH!!!
I slide head first for the spray, scoop it up, and start spraying, all in one fluid motion. I must have surprised them because they didn’t have a chance to react. I unloaded all my ammunition in a matter of seconds and stepped back to see what would happen. One by one they started to fall to the concrete, quivering for a few seconds, then lying motionless. I’m not satisfied and continue to empty the spray can on their lifeless bodies.
DIE! DIE! DIE!
I stand there for a few moments, swelling with pride and quietly reflect on the battle and my overwhelming triumph. I inhale deeply and exclaim, "I love the smell of wasp spray in the morning. It smells like….victory."
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