Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Match Game
[:]
We have learned the hard way that ye old trick of putting a match between the toes of a sleeping friend and then lighting it can be hazardous to your health. Here's the skinny:
Last night's G-HQ beer binge was brought to a screeching disassemble when Three-toes Tony slipped a wooden kitchen match between the toes of a slumbering Black Jack Brisko, lit it & scurried aside to watch some highly anticipated comical results...but Black Jack was not much amused and in fact, he came totally unglued and went totally ballistic on all of us. One would never think that such an old and battered tomcat, one-eyed and gimpy to boot, could move so fast. Nobody escaped without a scratch (there were 12 of us in the hanger) and two are now missing large swatches of fur, plus poor Ollie Longjumper's once-magnificent tail has been reduced to a 2" stump--his flying days are over.
To make matters worse, once we got Black Jack settled down n the First Aid loft we learned (again, the hard way) that immersing a second-degree burn into a shot-glass of rubbing alcohol is ill-advised, especially when the fur surrounding the injured area is still smouldering at a temperature exceeding the combustion point of pure alcohol. Not a pretty sight, and some of us may have suffered permanent hearing loss. But none of us were otherwise injured owing to Secret Attack Squirrel's sagacious expediency of at first securing Black Jack to the E.R. table (with electrical tape and rubber bands) before beginning treatment.
Black Jack Brisco is now resting comfortably, thanks to Wally One-eye's brilliant quickness at knocking him over the head with 40 oz. bottle of Colt .45.
Uh oh, he's coming around now & I'm out-a here!
We have learned the hard way that ye old trick of putting a match between the toes of a sleeping friend and then lighting it can be hazardous to your health. Here's the skinny:
Last night's G-HQ beer binge was brought to a screeching disassemble when Three-toes Tony slipped a wooden kitchen match between the toes of a slumbering Black Jack Brisko, lit it & scurried aside to watch some highly anticipated comical results...but Black Jack was not much amused and in fact, he came totally unglued and went totally ballistic on all of us. One would never think that such an old and battered tomcat, one-eyed and gimpy to boot, could move so fast. Nobody escaped without a scratch (there were 12 of us in the hanger) and two are now missing large swatches of fur, plus poor Ollie Longjumper's once-magnificent tail has been reduced to a 2" stump--his flying days are over.
To make matters worse, once we got Black Jack settled down n the First Aid loft we learned (again, the hard way) that immersing a second-degree burn into a shot-glass of rubbing alcohol is ill-advised, especially when the fur surrounding the injured area is still smouldering at a temperature exceeding the combustion point of pure alcohol. Not a pretty sight, and some of us may have suffered permanent hearing loss. But none of us were otherwise injured owing to Secret Attack Squirrel's sagacious expediency of at first securing Black Jack to the E.R. table (with electrical tape and rubber bands) before beginning treatment.
Black Jack Brisco is now resting comfortably, thanks to Wally One-eye's brilliant quickness at knocking him over the head with 40 oz. bottle of Colt .45.
Uh oh, he's coming around now & I'm out-a here!
# posted by call me crazy @ 5:52 AM 
