Falcon2001 Posted July 17, 2003 Report Posted July 17, 2003 ==The Shrub and The Question== =======A True Story======= Click, click. The choke on the damned weedeater was sticky, as usual. Also per the usual, it refused to start even with my best efforts. Click, click. Wait. Pull...click. The bushes need trimming, and I was the man to do it. Armed with clippers I had surveyed the hedge and then fell back to rejoin the battle with superior forces. Trudging back to the house, I mentally went over our arsenal of landscaping, and then settled upon the Beast as the only possible solution. The lock to the shed shuddered once as I twisted the key, as if momentarily considering fighting, then gave. I shoved open the shed, and surveyed the sharpened glistening tools of warfare settled before me, then pushed my way to the back where the Beast hung. A two-handled monster of a weedeater, this gas-guzzling monster was an absolute terror to handle, but it got the job done. I hefted it down from wall, grabbed the can of gas and the spool and slung the monster over my shoulder and headed for the tractor. Throwing it all in the back, I hopped on and sped slowly off towards my target. I could hear the Beast growling in the back as we rumbled along the gravel driveway. I reached the hedge and ground to a halt, slamming on the brakes. The bushes seemed more prolific than before, as if growing to prevent the damage that they could feel approaching. I took my time winding the wire for the weedeater, letting the bush drink in the fear. When I finally clicked the bolt into place, I let the smile creep across my face. So there I was, starting it. Or attempting to, at the very least. Finally I gave a mighty pull on the cord, accompanied by the magic word (hint, it's four letters long and isn't allowed in polite company), and the engine roared hungrily to life - it wanted to feed on the sap of the living, and I was to give it the means to do so. I revved the engine a few more times, then settled my goggles down in front of my face - better to keep the plant detrius from injuring me in a lastditch attempt to disable me. The goggles set, I slammed the trigger down and waded in for the kill. Plant particles flew everywhere as I ruthlessly razored away branches and shrubs alike. Bits and parts of vegetation stuck to my clothing as I gleefully shredded away at the hedge. The plant clung to it's existence, though, and it was a hard battle. The conflict lasted all of 10 minutes, with the eventual outcome of me standing back to admire my handiwork. Where once had stood a mighty shrub was now nothing more than debris. As I stood there, battleworn and weary, a little girl walked up to me. "Hey Mister, why did you have to kill that bush? It was pretty." she said, starting up at me with big brown eyes. I looked back at her, covered in the cool sap of the bush - and I had no answer. Why did I kill the bush? It certainly hadn't done anything to me - I was just following orders. A nazi stormtrooper breaks down the the door to a jewish house, shooting all the inhabitants in the name of Fascism. As he's leaving a little girl walks up to him and asks him "Why did you have to kill those people? They were nice." The soldier can't think of a reply. He was just following orders. I turned around, trudged back to the house with a heavy heart, and hung up the weedeater, then sat and thought for quite a while on relative evil.
Peredhil Posted July 17, 2003 Report Posted July 17, 2003 well-done anthromorphing the Beast! Jews are shrubbery? Monty Python's Holy Grail takes on new levels of meaning... But seriously, well-written with a message without being pushy. -P
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