Random Inspirations

This story starts out like any other story: on a Saturday. With wind gusting around 89 mph. All stories start out on Saturdays b/c writers are generally bored on Saturdays, but this is when they are also the most creative.

Being on a Saturday, my (beautiful) wife and mom were out running errands. My (perfect) child was in bed. Having the house to myself and in despair from my beloved Cowboys dropping another game, I decided to drown my sorrows in my third favorite television show. I recently had been given the Season 1 DVD set of Bones (Wednesdays 8/7c on Fox), so I popped in a disc and was all set to enjoy the horrors of forensics and the awesomeness of FBI-ism. During the second episode, I noticed a smoky smell. Thinking someone was grilling outside, I continued to watch. As the episode progressed, the smell became stronger - even to the point that, being the nosy neighbor I am, I went outside to see if it was really a grill or something else. Guess what? It turned out to be something else.

I saw the white smoke rushing through the “alley.” I knew it was too much for a grill (unless it was an industrial grill. And if it was an industrial grill, why is there an industrial grill in someone’s backyard anyway?). Since our house and others don’t have fences, I was able to walk out back and look right down to the end of the block. Through the smoke I saw 3 or 4 people trying to beat the grass into submission with a combination of water torture and persistent foot-stomping. Later I found out that they weren’t interrogating the grass for the enemy’s position, but the grass was on fire.

I raced back into the house to get some shoes (forget socks). As I rounded the house to get the hose, the fire rounded the neighbor’s fence and started mocking me. It said, “Come get me. Try and put me out. I’m going to get you first, Jack.” Fortunately, I know the fire language, as you probably would’ve misinterpreted it as mere crackling. Having my CTU shirt on, I knew the fire thought I was Jack Bauer, whose spirit arose in me. In true dramatic TV fashion, I had trouble connecting the hose. I had it, then it slipped off. The fire grew closer, it’s mocking becoming louder and more annoying. I felt it’s hot breath on my face and the sting of it’s smoke in my eyes. I finally managed to get the hose connected and started blasting away at the fire. I managed to stop it 6-8 feet away from the house. And having a concrete draining ditch next to our house slowed the fire enough that I managed to put it out before it jumped to the next house. However, the backyard of our back neighbors wasn’t safe - yet.

I trodded right through the ashes, watering and stomping out smoking grass. The fire raged on up the alley, so the smoke became a problem. I couldn’t see through it! It was like going through a cloud. A smelly, yellowish-white cloud that burned and could kill you if you stayed in him too long. I did my best to stop the fire reaching their house. It moved along their neighbor’s fence. My hose, being just long enough to reach the back edge my property, and the wind blowing my stream of life-saving water, wasn’t up for the task. The fire was engulfing a renegade trash can that had rebelled it’s way into the back yard. I knew my only chance was to grab the trash can, shoot it in it’s knees until it agreed to cooperate, and fill him up with enough water to reach the fire before it took out a fence. I dropped my hose, forced my way through the small, but raging, flames and grabbed the bin. I soon choked him into submission and filled him 1/3 of the way up with the all-natural ridder of toxins - both inside the body and out. With the help of the neighbor across the drainage ditch, we managed to subdue the fire. until, that is, another neighbor came out who needed help. His backyard was almost completely burnt, but I offered my aid by soaking his yard so it could not ignite the small, unburned portions. After fighting the last remaining flames and dowsing a smoldering fence board or two, the fire department made a sweep of our area and continued upwind.

Throughout the ordeal, I only received second-degree ashes. Fortunately, the firemen were well equipped with extra water and paper towels. Our house was saved, but only half of our backyard went unscathed. He is survived by the other half of the backyard, his spouse the front yard, and their children the two sideyards. Memorial services have already closed, but gifts and monetary donations are still welcome.

Below are some pictures. If you are easily scared, get queasy or have small children around, I suggest you use extreme caution while scrolling. Some images may be very disturbing.