Muskrats are childrens mortal enemies. (Part 2) (559 hits)
Category: HumorRating: 0 on 2 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by skalors1 (View user info) at 2006-03-27 18:59:11 EST
This is the exciting conclusion to an earlier post http://www.ubersite.com/m/84733
Our first attack may not have went as well as we had planned, considering the fact that the evil minion hordes of the muskrat queen still had firm control of the river bed, but a victory was realized, and that gave us confidence, albeit misplaced confidence.
Mere minutes after the river assault, after Jason stopped crying of course (the thought of thirteen shots in the stomach was not pleasant), we began to plan phase 2. I forget what it was exactly. However I am sure that it involved doing something stupid, losing courage and ultimately blowing the whole plan, which would have never worked under any set of circumstances anyways, and ensuring that someone else could receive the gift of a rabies shot.
Wait a minute that was the last plan......
The plan was never carried out and the mission was put on hold due to unforeseen circumstances: dinner.
It was weeks before we had another chance to all get together at Jason's place, though the planning was interminable. I think the reason it took so long for us to head back over there was the fact that none of us felt strongly about how to eliminate the Muskrat scum. That was resolved the day before the next, and ultimately final, attack took place (one which Josh regrets to this day that he missed).
Pipe bombs were the key to everything.
You saw some weird shit growing up on a farm. I once witnessed my cat humping a chicken. You also run into some weird people, mostly rednecks with guns and to much time on their hands.
Jason's father was a redneck with a gun, and he too had too much time on his hands. Though, for his defense, the man was not lazy, he was just a construction worker and he ran a roughing crew. Rough crews normally don't work in the rain and it rains a lot in Michigan. So during his free time, his dad shot a fuck load of guns. When he wasn't shooting guns, he was usually reloading the shells so he could shoot some more.
This meant two things, his dad had a lot of gun powder, and it was available for us to use if no one was around.
We procured some PVC piping and caps from the local hardware store, which in my town was called the grain shop (this is where the train drove through and picked up grain for distribution elsewhere); stopped by my place to pick up a brick of black cats left over from the fourth of July (my dad sold fireworks) and finished the awkward two mile bike trip home. The trip was uneventful if you disregard the nasty looks we received from almost every person who drove by us; pipe bombs were not new to them or their mailboxes, a trend we perpetuated as we got older.
We went right to work when we got to Jason's house.
Brad immediately set to cutting the PVC. Large bombs for the start of the attack, smaller ones to tie up any lose ends. Jeff was capping the bottoms, and eventually the tops, of the bombs using rubber cement. During this I was drilling holes in the tops of half of the caps so I could set the fuses after I had finished splicing them together to get longer fuse times. I set the fuses using the same rubber cement and we let the cement dry for the next few hours.
If you can't tell, this was not the first time we have done this. We even had a plywood wall we could hide behind as the pipe bombs went off (an idea that was the direct result of a piece of PVC that had lodged in my back some months back).
This time was different. We had never done, and never again did (among other things, we had to pay for this gun powder and it was locked away for good after), anything even remotely close to the scale on the day that the muskrats burned.
At, or around, 2 pm that afternoon, we made our way to Gerry's (Jason's father) pull barn. We slowly gathered the weapons of mass destruction and carried them to the river. We crossed the river about a quarter of a mile away from the muskrat stronghold via a fallen log and grabbed our protective wall (which we mostly used during BB gun wars) and brought it back. We all had lighters thanks to the fact that both of Jason's parents smoked. We even had a plan for executing the attack after the first set of bombs exploded; Jason and I were to throw because we had the most accuracy, whilst Brad and Donald were to light the fuses. Jeff's job was to hand the bombs to us. Looking back now, we were lucky in so many ways, but the most fortunate thing that happened was a complete accident; the fuses were waterproof (a fact I am sure the aquatic life in my pond wished I had not learned in the years to come).
We were ready. All 5 of us lined up, the five largest pipe bombs in hand.
We lit the lighters and held them away from the fuses.
Jason was going to count down. The dirty muskrat bastards were oblivious.
"1"
There was some motion in one of the nests, were they going to attack first?
"2"
Look at the unsuspecting muskrat and her kids swimming around in the water.
"3"
Muskrat babies are kind of cute.
"GO"
The fuses were lit and we took cover behind the plywood wall.
The events that proceeded can only be described as a jackassery festival. To those of you who do not know what that means, it means that a festival of jackassery took place in Jason's yard.
We must have used 40 pounds of gunpowder and over $100 in PVC pipe. I could give you a number on how many pipe bombs we made that day, but you would never believe the number and it would still probably fall short of the actual number. All I can say is that we had two, and sometimes three, bombers and we maintained an almost relentless assault for over an hour.
There was fucking muskrat everywhere. The side of the house was caked with mud and muskrat parts. There were heads in the lawn, legs in the trees. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever seen. The river bed was fucking wrecked. It was disgusting. Brad and Donald started vomiting. When we were throwing the bombs, we were oblivious to everything. When the tossing was done, we realized we were in deep fucking trouble.
Firstly, we had to clean the mess which took hours, though we passed the time by throwing body parts at one another. Then we had to pay back Jason's father for the gun powder that was used. I forget the amount, but it took us all over three years to do so. After that, we were sitting on our asses for the next 3 months and only saw each other at school (when it commenced) and at "fire" classes once a month, for the next six months, in Romeo.
Our parents, when they get together, still talk about the shit we used to do and have a laugh. However, when you hear a true uproar come out of them, we know the are talking about the time that we blew the shit out of that river bed and the horde of muskrats.
User Reviews
Submitted by skalors (user info) at 2006-03-27 19:23:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Actually, this, like my other posts, really happened. Sorry if you don't believe them or can't believe them.
Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2006-03-27 19:15:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
This one time, there was this girl, and she nannigans.
Entertaining, though.