Welcome to the newest installment of “Teenage Hijinx and Tomfoolery”. In this episode, Jester and his friends find a way to both waste time and learn a valuable life lesson.*
[sub]Warning: Above statement may only be 50% true.[/sub]
And now, the story:
Whilst filming a movie for my friend’s school project, he, myself, and a few other friends came upon a very important decision. We came to the unquestionable conclusion that something had to die for the purpose of our art.
Only problem is, we don’t have the guts to actually kill anything alive. This threw a considerably large wrench into the works. But, being who we are, we decided to not let logic and/or reason, and simply find a substitute for a living creature.
A quick trip to the Variety Store a block away yielded just the perfect non-organic victim. Sitting on the “Easter Discount Shelf” was…well, it was a peep. A little toy wind-up walking chick with fuzz on it and an adorable widdle beak and bright shiny black eyes.
Immeadiately, we knew we had to have it. After shelling out a big five dollars for the toy, we took it home, and gave it a name. It’s name was Pooky.
Pooky had to die.
My friend Sean, who is admittadly a bit off-kilter, but has fireworks, came over with a bag of demolition products, and we were ready to launch Operation: Kill the Fuzzy Bird-Thingie.
Taking apart a strip of small firecrackers, we put four of them into a small cluster that looked exactly like a miniature version of the dinamite clusters in Wil E. Coyote cartoons. We were proud. We attatched the bundle to Pooky’s neck with a twisty tie, and went out to the driveway with a box of matches and a camera. We had constructed the world’s first Peep-bomb. God help us all.
The first trial run, I’ll admit, didn’t go as planned. We had to devise a way to wind Pooky up, light his fuse, and then put him down and run like Hell. When we finally accomplished this, Pooky walked for a while, then fell over, and, worst of all, didn’t blow up. We were forced to construct a new bundle, then go through the entire process again.
This time, though, we were rewarded heartily. Pooky began walking forward, then must have seen the hand with the match coming towards him, cause he veered to the right and began running away. Alas, Pooky’s stubby, mechanical legs were no match for anything moving more than 0.1 inches per minute. The fuse was lit, Pooky fell over onto his side in defeat, and blew up.
However, we found out that mechanical toys are a Darwinist’s dream, because when the smoke cleared, Pooky remained on his side, his legs flailing about, fully in one piece.
On further inspection, we found that the fireworks had actually propelled themselves out of the twisty tie bonds and rocketed to demolitions heaven somewhere. They HAD, however, left a nice big scorch mark on Pooky’s back, where his cute downy coat had melted into his plastic hide.
We decided that, since we were too lazy to try again, this was good enough, and Pooky had earned his right to live. So, while we didn’t actually KILL anything, we did come out of the experience with new respect for Chinese craftsmanship, a new mascot for our movie, and great footage of a chicken walking around with a bomb on its back.
All together, a pretty average Friday. For me, at least.