Sunday, 25 November 2012

Woop Woop - Daddy-o-Cleary Writes for FOTGAHITC!

I'm not teaching you anything new by telling you that Mamas and Papas are different.  On our trip the obvious differences are right in your face (see Mamas last naked post).  Partners should have differences because together they become greater.  It is the the emotional difference between Mama and I that assisted me today.

The following account is based on true events...

In hindsight I should have known it would have come to this.  As Mama washed the blood from her hands, as her heart became heavy with the loss of life, as a tear rolled down her cheek, I swear I heard it.  I know that I did.  It was like a whisper on the wind, a voice in my mind.  My destiny was to be entwined with these small six legged insects.

In our absence of the bus the ants had regrouped, they had sought council with their elders and the survives from the squirmish with Mama. The battle ground had been chosen, scouts had been sent to all corners of the fridge area.  Lines of ants were posted, not just soldier ants but all creeds were to join in the defence of their home.

Today it happened.  It was not planned or expected.  Today was like any other - the sun shone, the wind blew. I was unaware of the council, the plans, the tactics.  Lumbering into the bus I chanced to open the door to the fridge.  I then saw them, lined up, awaiting orders.  I was unprepared but my training took over, without thinking I unpeeled the gaffer tape that held the door tight and without remorse squashed a whole platoon of guard ants posted in the egg tray.  I continued my assault with random attack points.  Squishing and sticking helpless ants.  The colony ran in all directions, soon I had stuck over a hundred ants to my gaffer tape weapon and with satisfaction I closed the door with the knowledge that I would return.
The day resumed as normal for me.  My heart was devoid of feelings for the ants, the injured ones that had been left behind.  I boxed my feelings of love, remorse, compassion and hid them deep inside.  I meditated after lunch and remembered the teachings of my master.

He told me "Love is all you need".
He said to "feel it in my fingers".
He asked "war, what is it good for?"
He taught me that they can torture me, break my bones, but if they take my sandwiches....

I was ready to finish this.  I journeyed back to the bus and sought my new weapon.  With lemon multi surface cleaner in hand I opened the door to the fridge.  The ants had regrouped in unfathomable numbers.  I sprayed and sprayed until my hands blistered and blood covered the trigger.  No ant was spared, the onslaught didn't last long but the effect was terminal.  Swathes of motionless ants floated in puddles of lemon scented water.  Some twitched as their last breath of life left their soaked bodies   I even killed the tiny red cross ants as they scrambled across the battle field to save any survivors.

Silence fell upon the fridge.  All was motionless.  I placed my weapon down and sunk back in the chair surveying the carnage.  After some time I regained my senses and cleaned down the fridge.  Washing the lifeless bodies of my foe down the sink until the fridge was once again suitable for purpose.

I know that I have done wrong.  I tell myself there was no other option.  I had tried to negotiate, offering them a peaceful resolution.  I offered free passage to the bus door.  But something has changed in me.  I felt the dark side. My feelings have been boxed up and will not be released as I do not feel bad for what I have done.  I feel happy and joyous that I have a clean fridge to keep my beer and sandwiches in.

As I left the bus I heard it.  A whisper on the wind, a thought in my mind.  This is not the end.....

1 comment:

  1. We are the Ant Liberation Army. We know of your anticide. Our brothers and sisters will be avenged.

    We will rise up to crush the Hippy Evil Do-er Papa Cleary. His sugar will be ours and he will rot in the fires of Tydd for all eternity.