We are approaching zero-hour and tensions are running high at Mission Control.
Soon, the greedy jaws of night will consume the last of daylight leaving only an inky nothingness.
It is then when I will rise to smite my sworn enemy:
The Terrible Hornet.
1/
Tonight, the hive of bald-faced hornets, winged spearman from hell, must face its final reckoning.
I will be dispensing them straight to sulfuric hellfire from whence they came.
Or, ya know, that’s sort of how I’m hoping it goes.
Results may vary.
2/
Anyway, it has been said “To defeat the hornet one must become the hornet.”
I cannot be a *human being*.
I must be a *hornet doing*.
I have thought of little else this day.
And I have surveiled my quarry.
3/
Becoming the hornet requires challenging one’s assumptions.
Why is it that I should be forced to attack from an unfortified position while The Terrible Hornets are protected by battlements?
“Become the hornet. Build a hive.” a voice said.
My voice. Muttering in Home Depot.
4/
After all:
1) the opening to the hive faces the back of my property
2) I have one can of spray (with a 20-foot spray range); and
3) I can’t possibly spray the opening and get back to the house faster than hornets can get to me.
5/
Basically, without a hive of my own, I’d get one brief chance at the Carnival of the Damned.
Either get the spray in the Clown’s Mouth or win a terrible prize:
100 hornet stings to the face
I do not like the sound of that. I’m terrible at that carnival game.
6/
I needed a pill box. A fortification like in ye olde times of war.
A hardened battlement with a view of the target but protected from counter attacks.
Enter: The Garment Bag of Troy.
7/
Small, light, mobile, quickly sealable.
All I needed to do was position it within firing position of the hive and then at near dark unleash Apocalypse Then.
Should The Terrible Hornet launch a counterattack, I could zip up and wait them out.
Or go down firing.
8/
First, I had to gain their confidence. Lull them into a false sense of security.
So, I sauntered over casually “Oh, hello, Terrible Hornets. Do not fear me. I am a simple country merchant bringing my wares to market. I mean you no harm.”
9/
“I am weary from my travels and soon it will be dark. I shall leave my garments here and return for them in the morning.” I said to myself but really to them. They were listening. They are always listening, watching, waiting.
Anywho. My improvised man-hive is in position.
10/
It is time, my friends.
You have been good company.
But nothing can keep me from my appointed task.
If the next transmission is pro-hornet, they have overrun my position.
I’m kidding. I am going to go dispense these bastards and watch through my garment bag man-hive window.
Wish me well.
I shall return with stories of war.
//
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Someone “warned me” they would unfollow me if I killed the aggressive hornets that have stung me twice in my yard.
These aren’t honeybees. They are bald-faced hornets. They are very aggressive. They attack over almost nothing. Vibrations. Movement close to their hive.
1/
They actually remember faces.
When they sting, they leave a chemical summoning the hive to swarm.
They are dickheads.
2/
And they are nesting right next to where my neighbors’ boys have a soccer goal - and they are going to kick the ball into that bush at some point this summer.
The problem ain’t bees. I sit with bumble bees all around me on flowering bushes. I leave them alone; and vice versa.
Trump is leveraged to the hilt. His business is a house of cards built on debt he can’t afford to service.
One tiny push and he would suddenly have to hastily sell off assets in a fire sale… which would make all of his other loans suddenly even riskier to lenders.
2/
High-debt businesses reliant on constant access to credit can go down in flames surprisingly fast.
Happens with retail brands a lot. They eke by until it just implodes. Doesn’t matter how big the retail chain is. Once they are in a credit squeeze, it’s a steep spiral.
3/