the sun, a burger, the park, and other things

let me tell you michelle i have been running into these guys and gals a lot lately, now that is not to say with my car of course not.
one scientist from a local community reports studying a group of chip and dales finding some of the acorn shells they carried between their tiny jaws well, some hollow some filled with dirt.  confused and wanting to make sure he was not dreaming or being pranked he laid out traps in different parts of the community and came to a frightening conclusion:  the squirrels are burrowing into the ground and expanding their habitat and organizing, not only that some of the shells contain metal like material that can be used in construction and electronics, what the f#!k is going on.
so with shivering timbers the scientist made sonar studies of a wide area and started digging into the earth at first, his progress was slow for a few inches below surface the ground is composed of wet, heavy clay which digging through is tough on the back.  but because he is a man of the sciences, and heck if we can put a man on the moon, i can certainly get through this clay.  a few hours into his project his pick hit something metallic and hallow.  as with anybody holding a pick and digging into the earth first thinks, TREASURE! but this was quickly dispelled and now he started hitting the object with a ten pound sledge hammer.  (this all in the scientists report by the way) this too began slowly as the scientist had not worked out in years, as a matter of fact the heaviest object he lifts is a burger from kelsely’s grill.
backing off to regain strength the scientist poured a cup coffee pondering just what was

dale
one of the chip and dale look outs

inside, did this have anything to do with chip and dale, and just what did kelsey use for his secret sauce, damn good burger.  suddenly, the scientist hears a noise, sees some of that heavy clay slide away and out of the middle of the metallic object darts a squirrel, then another and another and another until there looked to be a division plus one platoon staring him down with that cold, distant, yet terrifying gaze.  from the platoon a whistle sounds slowly they move toward him then the pace quickens, faster and faster they approach but the scientist stood, sat actually, petrified until they were almost atop him. f!!k screamed the scientist and he began running faster, faster, faster but it was all for nil as the hoard of chip and dales caught and swarmed over the poor scientist.  his fingers clawing air, they amass on his face muffling any screams, his legs kicking slowly, slowly, slowly now quiet.

“hey mister, hey, mister youz ok?”
“huh, what. watch out the squirrels are coming!” the scientists warns.
“what squirrels? you mean themz running around the park here.” the teenage boy querries.
sitting up from the park bench the scientist has a dis-shoveled look as he sees families picnicking, couples hand in hand some making out, a homeless man sleeping under a tree.
both hands rubbing his face, ” wow, what a dream.”
looking down onto the park bench he picks up a grease stained wrapper that reads, keasley’s burger hot, heavy and holly mackerel do they stay around.  a squirrel races across the ground in front of him, up a tree, pauses turns and winks at the confused scientist.
Advertisements

2 thoughts on “the sun, a burger, the park, and other things

    1. you know it is amazingly interesting what one stumbles upon and BAM’ the words flow like a breached dam, then when that flow of words is most needed, say a short story one struggles with, they hide like coach-roaches when the light comes on.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s