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 Michael Schenker---"Adventures of the Imagination"
In our backyard garden we have a plant that is supposed to attract butterflies. My wife planted it when it was
a couple of inches tall and now it's about a foot and a half tall. I have been waiting patiently for the butterflies
to show up so I could catch a few in order to dry them out and roll myself some tasty smokes.
I guess my wife was misinformed about the plant though. I found this out when one of our cats was attacked and
consumed by the plant.
I was enjoying the fresh evening air on the back porch while keeping an eye out on the cat who was enjoying exploring
and tasting the plants in the garden. Ms. Cat noticed the butterfly plant and started creeping towards it.
She reached the plant and started to sniff it. I looked away for a moment and when I looked back, the cat was gone.
I found this to a bit strange so I walked over to the butterfly plant. It was shaking and there was a fairly large
mound of dirt at the bottom of the plant. I kicked at the mound and was greeted with a pitiful "Meow".
Holy living shitfuck piss, I thought, the plant ate the fucking cat!! This was extremely bad news since it is technically
my wife's cat and I had promised her that the cat would be perfectly safe roaming around the back yard.
I ran inside to tell her the news because I'm stupid. She was entertaining some guests and when I started yammering
about our cat eating plant, they looked at me like I was a psychopath, then stuck their noses back up in the air
and continued playing bridge.
(I actually think her friends think I am some sort of homeless freak because I only shave when I want and have
long hair which I only wash when my scalp starts to itch.)
.
Figuring I was going to get no help from wife & friends, I ran to the garage to find something to take care
of the cat eating plant.
The only useful items I could find were a shovel and a can of Raid. I ran to the backyard with my weapons, prepared
to go to war.
I stood over the plant and started to whack it with the shovel. The plant was smart because it ducked away from
most of my shots, but I did manage to get a few good ones in. The ones that missed must of hit the buried cat,
because every time the shovel hit the ground I was greeted with that pitiful 'Meow". One actually sounded
like 'MeeeEEEEooooOOOOW", so I must have landed a particularly nasty shot with that one.
I finally gave up whacking at the plant and dug it up. I only had to dig a couple of feet before I uncovered the
cat, who was woozy but fine, and a few more feet after that before I could pull the vicious plant out.
I took the plant around to the front of the house and placed it on the driveway. I grabbed my lighter and the can
of Raid and played Mr. Blowtorch man.
As soon as the plant caught on fire, it started to shriek and hop around. This pissed me off so I kicked it and
watched as it headed towards the car of one of my wife's guests.
The flaming plant landed on the roof, bounced, and fell through the open sunroof. I waited for a minute until the
inside of the car caught on fire, then went to my chair on the back porch, popped open a beer and waited for the
big boom.
Less than two minutes later the car exploded, causing our guests to freak out and leave, except for the one's whose
car had mysteriously exploded. They had to wait around a couple of hours to file some police reports, but I was
nice enough to show them maps of the local bus route.
They did ask me why I didn't help them put out the fire, but when I told them about my twisted testicle, I think
they understood.
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