The Massachusetts Snowplow Incident
Dear Plimouth Sentinel,
I can assure you that the statue toppling of our earnest and forthright town forebear, the Honorable Judge Moses Carbuncle, onto the town green was an unintended consequence of the zoo stampede, mostly of the hippo. Let us accept this as an act of Nature in truth, and on the insurance claim. Please permit me to explain the events as I encountered them for it is my hope that my fellow citizens will see clear to forgive and, perhaps more importantly, to forget what was previously announced in this venerated newspaper.
As you know we experienced quite a snowfall last Monday night. You’ve heard of everything going black? Well everything went white. Ha ha! I, like my agreeable neighbors, possess a driveway that I employ traveling to and fro. The following morning I brought out my trusty Massachusetts Snowplow, a white pick–up truck I call Wendy, and proceeded to clear my driveway.
As you know, the Massachusetts Snowplow is less plowing, more smushing. There is no actual plowing. However, one cannot simply drive out to the street and back a couple times. That creates car–ensnaring ruts and snow plateaus. No, the properly executed technique is to drive out real slllllow, letting the wheels and weight of the truck pack the snow down, then when you reach the end, U–turn a couple inches over and drive back real slllllow. Repeat. Flatten everything and the course is rendered suitable for even the weakest car to transverse. It’s an art really.
I’d put 35 miles on the odometer when the first helicopter landed, barring my way.
That’s where the chicken comes in.
I keep a flock of chickens. Fine laying hens. One goes by the name Wendy, like the truck (no relation). She is as white as Colonial Sanders, minus the teeth. On that fateful day Wendy traveled with me. I can still hear her serenading: “buk-buk BOK.” Mile after mile Wendy, Wendy, and I pleasantly packed powder.
Who could have known I’d actually driven miles from home? That I’d Massachusetts Snowplowed the town zoo, stormed the gates and monkey house, freed a dozen buffalo and the hippo, and come to rest upon the town cannon? If I hadn’t seen the helicopter footage and Bloodhound Trailing Report, why, I wouldn’t believe it myself.
Those choppers startled Wendy, I can tell you, and she immediately laid an egg. I never seen such power come out that end, that egg literally punched the accelerator! Nature’s Will be done. When Wendy’s egg hit the pedal, the heat from Wendy’s tailpipe ignited the cannon, which shot off the Honorable Carbuncle’s groin.*
It was the defecating hippo that toppled him. The hippopotamus is rated the 10th most dangerous animal in the world for a reason.
Snow Blindness is an actual medical condition I am not making up. Too much white, not enough depth. White world, white Wendy, white Wendy. Even the hippo was albino, her coloring somewhere between Cotton White and Beach Cottage Veranda White. Certainly, had I known, I would have done things differently during the zoo expedition. But that’s the thing about blindness, often you’re the last to see.
In conclusion, remember: All animals were safely returned and I pay taxes in this town.
Sincerely,
Concerned Citizen
* His life-size head and 14-foot mustache were spared.
I can assure you that the statue toppling of our earnest and forthright town forebear, the Honorable Judge Moses Carbuncle, onto the town green was an unintended consequence of the zoo stampede, mostly of the hippo. Let us accept this as an act of Nature in truth, and on the insurance claim. Please permit me to explain the events as I encountered them for it is my hope that my fellow citizens will see clear to forgive and, perhaps more importantly, to forget what was previously announced in this venerated newspaper.
As you know we experienced quite a snowfall last Monday night. You’ve heard of everything going black? Well everything went white. Ha ha! I, like my agreeable neighbors, possess a driveway that I employ traveling to and fro. The following morning I brought out my trusty Massachusetts Snowplow, a white pick–up truck I call Wendy, and proceeded to clear my driveway.
As you know, the Massachusetts Snowplow is less plowing, more smushing. There is no actual plowing. However, one cannot simply drive out to the street and back a couple times. That creates car–ensnaring ruts and snow plateaus. No, the properly executed technique is to drive out real slllllow, letting the wheels and weight of the truck pack the snow down, then when you reach the end, U–turn a couple inches over and drive back real slllllow. Repeat. Flatten everything and the course is rendered suitable for even the weakest car to transverse. It’s an art really.
I’d put 35 miles on the odometer when the first helicopter landed, barring my way.
That’s where the chicken comes in.
I keep a flock of chickens. Fine laying hens. One goes by the name Wendy, like the truck (no relation). She is as white as Colonial Sanders, minus the teeth. On that fateful day Wendy traveled with me. I can still hear her serenading: “buk-buk BOK.” Mile after mile Wendy, Wendy, and I pleasantly packed powder.
Who could have known I’d actually driven miles from home? That I’d Massachusetts Snowplowed the town zoo, stormed the gates and monkey house, freed a dozen buffalo and the hippo, and come to rest upon the town cannon? If I hadn’t seen the helicopter footage and Bloodhound Trailing Report, why, I wouldn’t believe it myself.
Those choppers startled Wendy, I can tell you, and she immediately laid an egg. I never seen such power come out that end, that egg literally punched the accelerator! Nature’s Will be done. When Wendy’s egg hit the pedal, the heat from Wendy’s tailpipe ignited the cannon, which shot off the Honorable Carbuncle’s groin.*
It was the defecating hippo that toppled him. The hippopotamus is rated the 10th most dangerous animal in the world for a reason.
Snow Blindness is an actual medical condition I am not making up. Too much white, not enough depth. White world, white Wendy, white Wendy. Even the hippo was albino, her coloring somewhere between Cotton White and Beach Cottage Veranda White. Certainly, had I known, I would have done things differently during the zoo expedition. But that’s the thing about blindness, often you’re the last to see.
In conclusion, remember: All animals were safely returned and I pay taxes in this town.
Sincerely,
Concerned Citizen
* His life-size head and 14-foot mustache were spared.
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