so i got to thinking, "hmmmm, how'm'i gonna kill this nasty little creature?" you see, i have a fear of yellowjackets. it's not a fear that'll make me run around my yard, flaying my arms in a absurd panic and screaming at the top of my lungs. no, i believe that's hysteria. and i don't have a phobia of them either. no, i don't have spheksophobia. i have a respectable fear of them. but, if this yellow and black missle with a stinger and lots of venom comes after me, i gotta find an emergency exit and fast. now, remember, i'm at least 1o feet off the ground with my offspring hovering right below me.
then it hits me like a brick. . .i'll go and get my bug zapper and have my own little voltage execution. but wait, what happens if i leave and this little demon leaves as well. yeah, i know it will be dead soon with the impending winter on it's way, but i gotta get some satisfaction of taking out as many of these tiny mongrels as possible.
so, back to the drawing board. what can i use? what can i use? looking around my yard, looking for something useful. . .
i look down, down towards my shorts and see, SCISSORS. can i use these? why not? these will work, eh? i feel like i'm in a cartoon with the innocent incarnate of me with wings and a halo on one shoulder opposite the evil incarnate of me in red pajamas and a pitchfork on the other.
"c'mon, do it," says evil twin.
"no, don't. just get some wasp spray," says good 'ole boy twin.
i feel like i'm bickering with own twin (needless to say, that happens a lot). "should i, shouldn't i?" hmmmm?
i reach down and remove the blue handle scissors from my cargo pocket, a sheath if you will. "do it," i keep hearing from evil twin. "just do it." good 'ole boy twin opens his mouth to rebuke me and evil twin, but i flick him off my shoulder and he goes crashing into the climbing rose behind me. "HAHAH" laughs evil twin and disappears in a mushroom cloud of orange and blue smoke.
i look straight at the beastie, planning my attack. "how'm'i gonna do this?" i reach over and through the wisteria, moving every so slowly, hands sweating from excitment and fear, anxiety and adrenaline, my scissors are guided through steady hands. careful not cut my precious plant, i open up the metal shears. on one side of my archenemy is a part of a double edged guillotine, waiting to come back together with it's own self. careful careful. . .
i watch in bewilderment and awe as the thorax and head are severed from each other while the blades go through the body of this brute. it's as if time slows to a crawl. the body and head slide down the width of the metal killer. it falls over. both parts of it's chopped body twitching it's legs. and then nothing. nothing at all. and that's what i felt. nothing, besides the cool breeze and the warm evening bathing my skin.
the laughter and the patter of little feet bring me back to reality. i look at the lifeless body on top of my pergola. one less winged fiend to attack my little grommets.
let the corpse stay up there. i'm not going to spring for a decent burial. . . .