It's a whacky world, or, "Rolling for hollers"

Today, Mr. Slug decided to be a useful slug and get some chores done around the house at Slug's Rest. Fall is quickly approaching, and slugs everywhere are getting ready for the long and wonderfully wet Oregon winter. The weeds have grown so tall that the dandelions are beginning to look like palm trees from Mr. Slug's point of view. Might be time to mow the grass and spruce the place up. "But first," thought Mr. Slug, "we must have the proper tool for the job." Mr. Slug slid around the grounds for a bit, taking stock of the enormous job that lay before him. He headed back toward the open kitchen window. The scent of a freshly baked blackberry pie cooling on the windowsill wafted across Mr. Slugs snout, which made him glad to be home on such a lovely day in the fragrant and windless late summer air. "Honey, I will be outside in the garage if you need me," Mr. Slug smiled broadly as he shouted over his shoulder to Mrs. Slug.

It had been a long time since Mr. Slug had been the garage to look for anything, there were stacks of boxes and unfamiliar tools strewn about the place. He flicked on the bare light bulb overhead, which cast an eerie shadow over all of the forgotten belongings. Over in the darkest recesses of his garage, Mr. Slug spied a very strange looking gentleman with a long set of whiskers and a sinister look to his eye. This particular chap looked like trouble, so Mr. Slug proceeded with caution and tried to be pleasant as he started to back away from the menacing and scary individual.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" asked the stranger. Mr. Slug was not sure how to answer this question, being that it is his house and he did not recall sending out any invitations to any sticks with whiskers.

Suddenly, he heard a click and a whir and the smell of gasoline filled his gills, making him feel woozy. The stranger's whiskers were whizzing about in circles and the stick-like figure buzzed to life! BZZZZZZZ!  BZZZZZZ! BZZBZZZBZZZZ!  Mr. Slug backed away and slid for his life, knocking over boxes and sending piles of books flying everywhere.  "Aghghgh," yelled Mr. Slug as he slid behind his beloved old unicycle with the flat tire, putting the spokes between him and his attacker.

Mrs. Slug heard the commotion and came to the rescue wielding a very large rolling pin in one tentacle and a cellphone in the other. "You leave my husband alone or I will call the snails!" Mrs. Slug released the rolling pin in the direction of the interloper.  The weedwacky lunged and darted left and right, but Mrs. Slug's aim was true and quite effective! KKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!   KEKEKEKEKEBowwwwww...........click.  Silence. Then a pathetic whimper came from under the pile of books. Mrs. Slug's quick thinking trapped one of the whiskers in the roller of the pin, dislodging it from the lawn care tool and effectively rendering the weedwacky useless. "That is what you get for scaring my dear husband!" Mrs. Slug said to the now harmless stick. The weedwacky gathered up what was left of his mangled handlebar mustache and borrowed Mrs. Slugs' cellphone to call the Mrs. to pick him up from the corner mini-mart. 

What is the lesson we learn from this event, you ask?

Number one: If you are a menacing weedwacky device, make sure you are equipped with plenty of green plastic string so you can be menacing for hours. The minute you lose that string, your done. I hate it when that happens.

Number two: If you plan to do yardwork, make sure your beautiful and clever wife is present somewhere on the property, you never know when you will run in to trouble with a garden implement and need the help of a wifely tentacle!

Number three:  Husbands everywhere heed this warning from your wives - don't let the weedwhacker become a stranger! Gentlemen, start your engines!