I was totally going to write about Jem and the Holograms because they are truly, truly, truly outrageous, but I feel it is more important, nay, imperative, that I inform the masses of an imminent world take over--by seagulls.
This is going to come as a surprise to some of you. After all, it wasn't too long ago that world take over seemed afoot due to the penguins and with the influx of pro-penguin propaganda in the last five years I felt the penguin world take over would happen any moment, but today I saw something that chilled me to the bone. Today I saw something so horrible, so frightening, that I'm not sure it can be captured in the written word. Today I saw the truth. Today I came face to face with the seagulls.
It was a day that started much like any other. I woke up; I drank my coffee. I watched cartoons (hence the forthcoming discussion about Jem) and eventually decided upon going to the beach. I'm visiting the east coast you see and it seemed a shame to waste a beautiful afternoon doing anything other than reading on the beach. So we packed up, we bought some fig newtons, some cheez its, some water, and headed to the beach.
The water was beautiful, the waves were crashing, and I blissfully trounced off into the ocean gasping only a little at the chill temperature. Despite the complaints of California that the Pacific is cold the northern Atlantic is much, much colder.
But I was not to be deterred! Soon my friend had joined me and we were happily bouncing about in the growing waves, cold but happy. And then, as is so often the case in these stories, tragedy struck. A moment of sweet innocence was ruined thoughtlessly, heartlessly, by the evil that roams this earth. The seagulls had struck.
My friend asked me if the giant mass of seagulls were swarming around our blanket. They were. She then asked if they could get into our sealed, bagged food. They could. Squinting against the sun that only moments ago had brought me such joy I stepped towards the shore and saw what I thought looked like a fig newton bag being dragged across the beach, caught between the bills of three different seagulls.
I took off, fueled by rage and raced back to the shore; the waves pounded me from behind and the current pulled at my feet, but I wouldn't be slowed. Sloshing without any thought but saving my delicious fruit and cake I ran up on the beach seeing clearly now that it was my fig newton bag the seagulls were molesting and, what's more, they weren't scattering as I raced towards them. I also saw, positioned not twenty feet from our blanket two older gentlemen casually half-sleeping in their beach chairs watching the seagulls rape and pillage our blanket and food with nary a half-cocked eyebrow let alone a minor Shoo! to chase them off. You would think the peoples of the world could be united against this heinous yellow billed force, but no, our ranks are divided. How do we stand a chance when there are those among us who would stand by while innocent fig newtons are plundered not ten feet away?
Thankfully we saved half the bag. One row was gone, but my adrenaline fueled race back to the shore saved the other row. But now the seagulls had got a taste. And they liked it. We laid down on our blanket, books in hand ready to protect our food and blanket. The seagulls formed a perimeter around us, landing approximately ten feet away on all sides. Their leader, an old grizzled fellow with brown feathers amid his white stood in the middle. He had a habit of keeping his head down so that he seemed thicker, more menacing then the others. As I read my book he would inch closer, one step at a time, step, step towards the rescued newtons.
I looked up and we made eye contact--it was like looking into the eyes of death. He wasn't frightened of me. Not even after I explained things to him. I'm bigger, I told him, I'll eat you. He didn't care. Looking down I assessed the size of my trashy romance and decided it would make a pretty good club. Don't make me beat you with Nora Roberts, I threatened him again. This seemed to throw him a little bit. He took a step back. Not to be thwarted, however, he started to move forward again. I half sat up, ready to do battle; I'd take on the whole squadron if I had to!
But then fate intervened. A new mark, an easier mark had been sighted by the scouts. The rest of the squad took off, squawking and flapping their way down the beach. But the commander stayed. His beady black eyes bored into my brown ones. Nora Roberts I threatened again. He didn't say anything, but I knew if he had a mouth instead of his grotesque beak he would have said, I'm not scared. With one last look he let out a squawk and flew after his squad. And so our stand-off ended.
The seagulls have no respect for human life, nor any decent fear of what we're willing to do to them. It's because of this I feel they may supplant the penguins in the race for world domination. If you see a movie promoting cute seagulls don't believe it; don't believe it for a minute. They'll wait till your gone...and then they'll steal your fig newtons. Fight for you lives people. Fight for your freedom.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
That's probably where you got the plague, too, huh?
~R
Post a Comment