“I don’t know man, this may be going too far,” Justin pulled on his hoodie strings nervously and glanced at his brother.
“Don’t be a puss, Justin. The jerk deserves whatever he gets, and you know it. He shouldn’t have messed with us. As far as I see it, we’re letting him off light,” Todd snorted in disgust. For two years he and Justin had been feuding with their next door neighbor Tom, a weasely bastard who just couldn’t seem to leave the brothers alone.
It all started with a disagreement over a lawn ornament, the brothers thought the florescent flamingo was funny, even a bit charming. Tom disagreed. One evening the brothers came home to find their flamingo beheaded and laying pathetic plastic pieces all over their lawn. Of course Tom denied any involvement in the dismemberment, but Todd knew better. Things escalated from there, the brothers would do things like turn on his sprinklers in the winter, put bird feeders in the oak tree above Tom’s prized 1965 Mustang Shelby, put his dog on the roof, silly pranks really- nothing overly evil or dangerous.
That is, until Tom’s latest retaliation. Coming home from a day at the beach one Sunday afternoon, Justin and Todd pulled into their driveway and couldn’t believe what they saw. Their entire house was covered in tin foil. The shiny and thin metal was wrapped around every corner of the house, every bush, even the front lawn was covered in the stuff. What would possess a person to take the time to do such a thing was beyond the brother’s imagination, but they were less than pleased. It took them twelve hours to clean it all up and they were still finding bits of tin foil here and there two days later. Todd vowed to get back at Tom, and this time it wouldn’t be so nice as a few pigeons pooping on a car.
Grabbing the last rat by the tail, Todd tossed it in the crawlspace in Tom’s attic and then quickly boarded up the door. “Now Tom is really gonna get it,” Todd snickered to himself as he and Justin slinked back to their house before Tom arrived back home. “Those rats are gonna get into everything, in the walls, in the roof, they’ll gnaw on his pipes and poop everywhere, man, then they’ll eventually go toes up and man, there ain’t nothing that smells like a dead rat carcass, this is gonna be great,” Todd let an evil chuckle escape.
“Just seems a little, I don’t know, a little bit…awful,” Justin mumbled, knowing Todd wouldn’t see it that way. Justin adjusted uncomfortably in his seat on the couch and shook his head, “how had things gone this far?” he wondered, this time to himself. For the millionth time in the last six months, Justin felt the brick of guilt land squarely in his gut; he had cut off the stupid flamingo’s head as just a joke… poor Tom.
The Not So Fantastic Reality:
The above story was inspired by the following tidbits I encountered today:
ONE: Ever cut a dead rat out of your wall? Take it from me, it ain’t fun (even though, if I’m being completely honest, I didn’t personally remove the odious vermin, my AWESOME boyfriend had that honor, for which I am forever grateful). Yesterday we both noticed a particularly raunchy stench coming from the guest bathroom. As the evening wore on, the smell intensified but we weren’t convinced it was what we suspected, so we checked the toilet, the tub, etc. hoping it was just a stinky backup or something. Today, there was no doubt- something was dead and it was in the wall. And if the smell alone wasn’t enough to convince us, the GINORMOUS flies materializing from thin air was enough to push us over the edge. So, while I put my trusty bug zapper to work on those fat suckers (took several sizzling swings to bring the nasty buggers down) Andy set to work on the wall. Fifteen minutes later the bloated carcass was removed, the space was thoroughly cleaned and bleached and is now awaiting a fresh patch of drywall. Ah, home ownership, ain’t it grand?
Love & Squirrels.