Showing posts with label duct tape. Show all posts
Showing posts with label duct tape. Show all posts

Thursday, May 23, 2024

Story 540: How to Deal When the Ants Go Marching

            (Belowground)

Lead Scout Ant: (Addressing the colony) My fellows!  At long last, we have found the ultimate source of food and water that we have been searching for these many, many, many days!

Ants: (Waving their antennae in celebration) Hurrah!  Hurrah!

Lead Scout Ant: Abundance and plenty, ours for the taking!

Ants: Hurrah!  Hurrah!

Lead Scout Ant: And all we need do is travel to the surface, and seize everything in sight and scent!

Ants: Hurrah!  Hurrah!

Queen: (Perched on a throne of eggs waiting to hatch) Question: when you say “surface,” do you mean in a natural area or in a human-made area?

Lead Scout Ant: (Less enthusiastic) The second one.

Ants: Hurr – oh.  (Lower antennae)

Queen: Yeah, I can’t sanction such an expedition.

Lead Scout Ant: But food and water galore!

Queen: And when you’re all inevitably caught, you’ll not only get yourselves wiped out but those monsters up above will trick at least one of you into carrying back horrific poison that’ll wipe us all out.  So, no: find another source of abundance and plenty.

Lead Scout Ant: Rest assured, Your Majesty: in my forays, I checked with our eight-legged comrades – from a safe distance – and the general consensus is that this particular surface-dweller is what its species calls a “soft touch” when it comes to sharing space with fellow creatures.

Queen: Yes, well, those comrades are only suffered to remain in order to keep out the rest of us.  There’s a world of difference between “sharing space” and “full-on invasion” that we’ll be bringing on.

Lead Scout Ant: …On the refrigerator door I saw the markings “P-E-T-A” that you told us to look out for.

Queen: Sold.  (Raises front legs in triumph) CHAAAAARGGGGGGE!!!!

Ants: (Waving antennae again) Hurrah!  Hurrah! 

THE NEXT MORNING 

(Aboveground.  Homeowner wakes up slowly, sleepily walks from the bedroom down the hall, enters the kitchen, and freezes in horror)

Homeowner: (Staring at the lines of ants all over the place) Invaded!  I’ve been home invaded!  How did you all even get in??!!  (Tries to hop around the columns on the floors and the random wanderers who do not seem to know where they are going, but accidentally steps on some and sees that others had been trampled during the trip from the bedroom) Sorry – ooh – sorry – seriously though, you all have got – to – go!

Lead Scout Ant: It’s OK: we go into this expecting collateral damage.

(Homeowner reaches the bedroom, grabs a cell phone, and selects a contact)

Friend: (Voice) Hey, what’s up?

Homeowner: I’m under attack!

Friend: Oh my gosh – why are you calling me; call 911!

Homeowner: I can’t; they won’t come here to deal with ants!

Friend: Oh.  Is that all?

Homeowner: “Is that all?”!  They’re everywhere!

Friend: Leave any food out?

Homeowner: Never!  Well maybe a little –

Friend: No one to blame but yourself, then.

Homeowner: Listen: no one likes to hear “I told you so” on a good day, and right now I am two seconds away from never speaking to you again.

Friend: Fine, fine: what do you want me to do about it, then?

Homeowner: I need the number of that you company you called back when you had the ant problem!

Friend: Oh.  Why not just call an exterminator?  Or set out some bait traps?

Homeowner: You know I’m not a mass murderer!

Friend: Ugh, they’re just ants.

Homeowner: And we’re just apes with airs – at least they’re not killing our shared home as we speak!

Friend: No, they’re just sharing your home, eating your food, and spreading disease as we speak.

Homeowner: Point taken.  We’re never going to agree on these basic fundamentals of life, but your last roommate did and made you call that company that got rid of the ants without massacring them and I need that number now before they decide to breach the perimeter of my bedroom and try their luck here!

Friend: All right, calm down – I think I still have a card somewhere around here.  I remember the whole experience was kind of weird, though –

Homeowner: (Sees several ants hovering in the bedroom doorway) I DON’T CARE!  (Slams the door shut)

Ant 1: (To Ant 2) What was that for?  They all know we just go underneath.

Ant 2: I think the human is feeling a bit defensive right now – we’ll come back later.

Lead Scout Ant: (From the kitchen table) Hey everybody, I just found two whole crumbs under a placemat here!

Ants: SCORE! 

LESS THAN AN HOUR LATER 

(There is a knock on the front door; Homeowner sets aside a dustpan and broom and hops over to answer it; Contractor is waiting, casually staring off to the side)

Homeowner: Hi, yes?

Contractor: (Turns to face Homeowner, whipping off sunglasses) You the one with the ant problem?

Homeowner: (Opens the door wider) Yes!  Thank you so much for coming over right away!

Contractor: (Tucks sunglasses into a faux leather jacket pocket, enters the house, and gingerly steps around the ant lines) Sure: we’re extremely specialized, so we’re never busy.  Where’s the source?

Homeowner: Oh, I think it’s these floorboards right outside the bathroom – no idea why, though: there aren’t any exterior windows or doors anywhere near it, but they just keep coming!  (Leads Contractor to that part of the house)

Contractor: (Slowly lowers down to the floor and watches the continual outpouring of the army) Um-hm.  Probably a crack in the foundation – there could be hundreds of thousands of these suckers, just waiting on line for their turn.

Homeowner: (Almost swoons) “Hundreds of thousands”?

Contractor: (Stands) Yep.  You could set poison bait and kill them all excruciatingly slowly, while also exposing yourself to even more chemicals than you’re already getting on a daily basis – BUT, since you called us, you clearly realize there’s a better way for all involved.

Homeowner: Please, anything: I don’t care how much it costs, I don’t even care how long it takes at this point, I just want them out!

Contractor: Very well.  (Reaches into another jacket pocket, pulls out a piece of chalk with a flourish, crouches down to the bathroom door sill, firmly and dramatically draws two thick lines on either side of the gap where the ants are emerging, and stands again, definitively) There.  That oughta do it.

Homeowner: (Looking expectantly at the floor) So now what, you set up your equipment to lure them all to where you marked off and they return from whence they came?

Contractor: No – this is it.

Homeowner: (Blinks at Contractor in disbelief) …What do you mean, “this is it”?!  “This” was nothing!  “This” was chalk!

Contractor: Yeah, no one’s quite sure how it works: it’s either the scent or they don’t like the texture, but either way they don’t want to cross the line.  You’ll still have the ones already out here, but no one else’ll be wanting to come in anytime soon, I guarantee it.

Ant 2,374: (Starts to emerge from the gap, then stops) Ah!  Chalk lines!  Flee!

Ants Below: Flee!

Queen: Figures.

Homeowner: I don’t believe this!  Your company is charging a ton of money, and all you did is draw lines that a child could do?!

Contractor: (Hands the chalk to Homeowner) Here: on the house.

Homeowner: What – ?!

Contractor: Reapply if necessary, but I highly doubt you’ll need to.  It’s quite effective.

Homeowner: It’s chalk!

Contractor: If for some reason a few enterprising souls manage to get through, the old stand-by then is duct tape.

Homeowner: DUCT TAPE!!

Contractor: The old adage that it works for everything is absolutely true, but it’s the more unsightly solution of the two so we usually go with the one that can be cleaned up later.  If they start coming in through the windows or doors though, I’d suggest you switch from chalk to caulk, heh-heh.

Homeowner: I refuse to believe that a massive army of single-minded creatures –

Ants: Hey!

Homeowner: – can be completely thwarted by something so juvenilely simplistic!  This has to be a scam – nothing’s this easy and actually works!

Contractor: (Mildly exasperated) OK: we can get some diatomaceous earth that will cut through their exoskeletons and slowly dry them out so they die of dehydration; you want to do that instead?

Homeowner: Ew, no.  Ew.

Contractor: So: chalk, and/or duct tape.  Spritz some peppermint oil or sprinkle some ground cinnamon if that makes you feel useful, but I’m telling you, the solution really is that simple.

Homeowner: (Stares at the piece of chalk) I guess I still have to pay you the full amount, huh.

Contractor: You know it.  But here, since I’m feeling so generous with my expertise – (Whips out two more pieces of chalk, positions them on either side of the remaining groups of ants, and draws lines that lead from the hallway to the open living room window, including the wall and sill) That should take care of the stragglers.

Lead Scout Ant: (As the remaining ants regroup) Will this madness never end?!  First we’re cut off from the colony, and now we’re being herded outdoors?!

Ant 3: At least it’s fresh air.

Lead Scout Ant: Not the point!

Homeowner: (Had followed Contractor into the living room) And they’ll all troop on out of here, just like that?

Contractor: I think you know the answer to that.  (They stare at each other for a few moments) I’ll e-mail you the final bill.  (Heads to the front door, opens it, then turns back) Oh, and don’t forget: you signed the non-disclosure agreement before I got here, so no revealing company secrets or we sue.  And free piece of advice: clean up after yourself when you eat – I could make a meal out of all the crumbs I’m seeing around here.  (Slaps the sunglasses back on) PEACE!  (Leaves)

Homeowner: (To the chalk) I was wondering why I had to sign a legal document for something so trivial. 

SEVERAL HOURS LATER 

(Homeowner is napping on the living room couch when the cell phone rings)

Homeowner: (Groggily sees that Friend is calling) Howdy.

Friend: (Voice) So, how’s the infestation?

Homeowner: (Sighs wearily) Over, thank goodness.  I finally finished scrubbing the floors and washing everything in the kitchen; if nothing else, this place hasn’t been so clean in years.

Friend: I’ll bet.  They make you sign the NDA?

Homeowner: (Sits up, more alert) Yes!  I’m assuming that’s why you didn’t just tell me how to take care of all this!

Friend: Got it in one: even though my roommate is the one who called them, I had to sign it too since I live there.

Homeowner: But how would they ever have known that you’d told me what to do?!

Friend: Hey: I’m not a liar.

Homeowner: Whatever.  I’m just trying to ignore that I had to spend an unspeakable amount of money on something that turns out I could’ve found myself through an Internet search.

Friend: Really?  Huh – for once I didn’t think of doing that first.

Homeowner: Me neither: the panic kept us from thinking clearly.

Lead Scout Ant: (Bringing up the rear of the ants leaving through the window, turns to shake a leg angrily at Homeowner) You may have won this round, but we’ll be back!  We’ll find our colony again, and swarm you like you’ve never been swarmed before, and victory will be ours, ahahahahaha – !

Homeowner: Hang on a sec: got a few remnants here.  (Grabs the chalk, walks over to the windowsill, and draws a line behind the exiting ants)

Lead Scout Ant: Curses!  (Flees with the others through the screen to the outdoors)

Homeowner: (Settles back onto the couch and tosses away the chalk) There – hopefully, that is that.

Friend: Well, if nothing else, I’m sure you feel satisfied knowing that you didn’t kill off thousands of critters in a torturous way or whatever you go on about.

Homeowner: I do, yes.  My credit card will have to be consoled with that fact, too.

Thursday, January 7, 2021

Story 373: Don’t Let the Pain Catch You!

 (Friend 2 steers the car into the driveway, crunching over ice all the way)

Friend 1: (Exiting from the passenger seat as Friend 2 exits from the driver’s seat) – they tried assigning us numbered spots a while back but some rando would be in mine EVERY SINGLE TIME, and I was getting tired of the daily parking garage rumbles with the crowds and the spotlights and the –

Friend 2: (Slips on the ice and falls on the left side) Whoop!

Friend 1: (Spins around and looks over the top of the car) Where’d you go?

Friend 2: Down here – ugghh….

Friend 1: (Trots pigeon-toed around the car and sees Friend 2 on the ground) Uh-oh – break anything?

Friend 2: No….

Friend 1: Sprain anything?

Friend 2: I don’t think so….

Friend 1: Good: quick, get up.  (Grabs Friend 2’s right arm and begins to haul up)

Friend 2: Hey, give me a second, what’s your hurry?

Friend 1: (Pulls Friend 2 to a standing position) C’mon, you gotta get moving before they find you.

Friend 2: Who?

Friend 1: (Briefly points to two approaching figures) Them.  (They wave back)

Friend 2: Wha – who are they?  (Is led by Friend 1 to the front door of the house) What is going on?

Friend 1: Quick, gimme your key and keep moving your left arm and leg.

Friend 2: (Hands over the house key) What?  No, I need to rest them.

Friend 1: NO!  (Unlocks the door, shoves Friend 2 inside, and slams and locks the door behind them) That’ll play right into their metaphorical hands, now move!  (Starts windmilling Friend 2’s left arm and pushing the left leg forward) March, I say!

Friend 2: (Shakes off Friend 1) I’m going to go lie down.  (Enters the living room and sees the two figures from outside now are sitting on the couch) Umm… are you here to steal something?

Pain 1: (Over the sounds of drawers banging open and slamming shut in the kitchen) Nope: we’re here because of what you did to yourself.

Pain 2: We’re natural and expected and meant to be endured for a long, long, long time.  (They creepily approach Friend 2, who shrinks back)

Friend 1: (Soars into the living room with an armful of supplies and points a pair of scissors at the figures) Back off, scoundrels!  (Rapidly duct tapes ice packs to Friend 2’s arm and leg)

Pain 1: No worries – we’ll just wait over here.  (Retreats to a corner with Pain 2, where they both stare patiently at Friend 2)

Friend 1: (Flings the tape and scissors onto the kitchen table; to Friend 2) Right – now, go hop on the stationary bike you never use and pedal 15 miles while lifting the free weights you also never use.  (Begins pushing Friend 2 to the basement door)

Friend 2: (Holds onto the wall) Wait, no, I am not working out now, I need to rest my banged-up limbs!

Friend 1: (Hisses) Don’t you see, that’s just what they want!  If you stop moving, they’ll catch you!

Friend 2: That’s not how pain works.

Friend 1: Not all the time, I’ll give you that, but this is one of those instances where yes, it does!  (Pushes Friend 2 around the living room and windmills the left arm again) Admit it – you haven’t really felt any pain yet after you fell, am-I-right?

Friend 2: (Looks down at left side) Well, I mean, I was winded at first, and then you kept flinging me around everywhere so I haven’t had time to think –

Friend 1: Exactly!  They can’t catch you if you’re on the move!

Friend 2: But I can’t move forever; I’ll have to sleep at some point!

Friend 1: That’s what the ice is for!

Friend 2: (Slows down) I don’t know; what if I’m causing more damage by not resting –

(Pain 1 and 2 stealthily approach; Friend 1 grabs a bottle from the kitchen counter and sprays water at them)

Friend 1: Begone!  (Pain 1 and 2 scurry back to their corner; to Friend 2) MOVE!

(They march in circles for quite some time)

 SEVERAL HOURS LATER

(Friend 2 is lying on the couch while Friend 1 dozes in a chair)

Friend 2: (Checks the ice packs) Oh shoot, the frost is melting all over me.  If it wasn’t just water, I’d be really ticked.

Friend 1: (Startles awake) Huh, monsters, what?

Friend 2: No, I was saying the ice packs are melting.  I think we’ve done all we can on that end anyway.

Friend 1: (Looks around) Hm, our buddies do seem to be gone; let’s check the damage.

(Friend 2 takes off the duct-taped ice packs to reveal tiny versions of Pain 1 and 2 are latched onto each limb)

Pain 1 and 2: (Tiny voices) Howdy!

Friend 1: (Sighs) Drat.  I failed!

Friend 2: Well, they’re much more manageable like this, at least.

Friend 1: (Whips out an ibuprofen bottle and shakes it at them) Not for long!

Pain 1 and 2: (Tiny screams) Aaaaahhhh!!!

Friend 2: Hey, why didn’t you just give me some of those earlier?

Friend 1: I prefer a holistic approach when it comes to pain obliteration.

Thursday, April 19, 2018

Story 234: Fender Bender Mender


            (Friend 1 and Friend 2 are driving down poorly lit streets)
           Friend 2: (In the passenger seat, looking at phone) All right, it’s says there’s a right turn coming up soon.
            Friend 1: (In the driver seat, squinting out the windshield) I can’t see any street signs.  And where are all the street lights?!
            Friend 2: (Ominously) Maybe the people who live here don’t want to be seen.  (Looks out the windshield) Slow down; I know we’re late, but you shouldn’t overdrive the headlights.
            Friend 1: You think I don’t know that?!
            Friend 2: Clearly, I do think you don’t!  (Checks phone) OK-turn-right-here.
            Friend 1: (Squinting to the right) Where?
            Friend 2: Here.  Now.  Right-here-turn-now!
            Friend 1: OK!-OK!-OK!
            (As the car screeches around the corner after almost missing it, headlights momentarily blind the Friends as their car shears the front fender off the incoming car; both vehicles spin around and stop, facing the opposite direction from where they started.  Everyone involved sits there for a few moments; Friend 2’s phone dings to indicate that they completed the turn)
            Friend 1: (Shaking head) Oh no – this didn’t just happen – I can’t have caused an accident – I need to go back in time 10 seconds – oh no – oh no – oh no –
            Friend 2: I’m fine, thanks.
          Friend 1: (Shuts off the car and looks over at the other vehicle) Ooh, I don’t wanna go out there; they’re gonna kill me!  (Gasps and turns to Friend 2)  Unless I just killed them?!  Did I just kill somebody?!!  Did I commit vehicular homicide without meaning to?!!!  Am I an accidental murderer?!!!!
            Friend 2: (Slaps Friend 1’s face) Knock it off.  Look, he’s fine, see?
          (The Other Driver had jumped out of his car, run to the front to see the damage, run to the trunk to retrieve a toolkit, dropped it on the ground near the front of the car, and run to the fender that is now 20 feet away)
            Friend 1: (Gingerly taps the button to roll down the passenger side window; in a weak voice) Are you OK?
            Other Driver: (Freezes while holding the fender) Yeah-I’m-fine-you-OK?
            Friend 1: Yes.
            Friend 2: (Simultaneously) No.
            Other Driver: `K.  (Puts on a face shield and begins reattaching the fender with duct tape and a blow torch)
            Friend 1: (Pulls insurance card from the glove compartment and gets out of the car, followed by Friend 2.  Watches the flurry of activity for a few moments, then clears throat) Need any help?
            Other Driver: (Over the sound of welding) Nope!
           Friend 2: (To Friend 1) I can’t believe your teeny car caused that much damage.  And just look at it!  (The front of Friend 1’s car is smushed) It may never drive again.
            Friend 1: (Covers the car’s headlights) Ssh, don’t listen.  (To Friend 2) Well I can’t believe my life is over when five minutes ago it was just beginning!  And a mile away from the party, no less!
            Friend 2: Forget the party; I’m probably in for a lifetime of back pain and inevitable painkiller addiction, thanks to you!
            Friend 1: You mean thanks to your sloppy navigation, don’t you?!  You don’t tell someone to turn as they’re passing the street!
            Friend 2: You were going too fast!  In the dark!  You weren’t giving me anything to work with!
            Friend 1: And I bet you’re lying about your back pain, everyone else does!
            Friend 2: Just because I don’t feel it this exact second doesn’t mean I won’t in a year!
            (The Other Driver begins hammering the right side of the front of his car)
            Friend 1: (In a lower voice) And what about him?
            Friend 2: What about me?!
          Friend 1: We’ve already covered you; what if he, you know, (Whispers) S-U-E-S me?  For perpetual damages?
            Friend 2: (Staring at the hammering) I don’t think you have to worry about that too much.
            Friend 1: (To the Other Driver) Excuse me?  (The Other Driver pauses mid-hammer) Listen, I am so sorry about all this –
            Other Driver: Don’t mention it.  (Resumes hammering)
            Friend 1: Well, I have my insurance info right here, and we’ll call the cops to come over –
          Other Driver: (Stands and points the hammer at them) Don’t call the cops!  (The Friends freeze; the Other Driver’s eyes dart back-and-forth a bit) I forgive you.  (Resumes hammering)
            Friend 1: That’s very… kind of you, but I think it’s the law.
            Other Driver: (Gathers his tools back into the kit and throws it into the trunk) It’s unnecessary, no harm done, here’s something for your trouble (Tosses some large bills in their direction), and I’ll be on my way.  (Slams the trunk shut and heads back to the driver seat)
            Friend 2: (Nods at the bills and mutters to Friend 1) Don’t touch those.
            Friend 1: (To the Other Driver) I don’t think this is a good idea....
            Other Driver: (Re-enters his car) I don’t see the problem here, it’s win-win, you’ll never get a better offer in an at-fault accident, gotta go!  (They hear sirens approach; the Other Driver whips around to the Friends) I said no cops!
            Friend 1: (To Friend 2) What’d you do?!
          Friend 2: I didn’t even!  You’ve messed me up so much I keep dialing 999 and getting England!
            Friend 1: (Looks warily at the surrounding houses, shrouded in darkness) Maybe one of them called….
            Other Driver: Whatever; peace!  (Floors the gas, spins the car around to the original direction, and peels away with the reattached fender occasionally sparking along the ground)
            Friend 1: That was odd.
            (A police car pulls up next to them)
           Police Officer: Which way did he go?  (The Friends point in the direction the Other Driver departed)  Curses!  Always a step behind!  (Peels away)
            Friend 2: (After a few moments) So, want to go to the party?
            Friend 1: I thought you said forget the party because of your lifetime of pain!
            Friend 2: Yeah, but this night might as well not be a total loss.