16A/N: This story may sound as if I wrote it while I was on crack. I don't smoke anything just so you know. I suffer from a cery active imagination.
A Firefighter's Tale
It had happened again. Senor Villainito was threatening to blow up part of our town, Fredricktonfieldville, again. He did that almost weekly and it made my job as Fredricktonfieldville's only firefighter, (Don't ask why. It is a very long story.), extremely difficult. You see, every time he threatened our town, I had to drive Bessie, our fire truck, to where ever Senor Villainito decided to "blow up" and wait there until he decided to leave. Sr. Villianito never blew anything up; he would just stand around and talk for hours. I know because I am always there, sitting in Bessie and listening to him ramble on and on about how awful his "plan" is and how he is going to take over the world. It is not fun. Especially when you take into account his terrible Spanish accent and the stench he always seems to emit. I would have to say that he smells remarkably like butt. No joke, the man smells like butt. I have had many hours to contemplate the exact odor of this putrid man and "butt" was the best thing I could come up with. However, rotting manure and essence of dung beetle were close seconds though.
His accent is that of a cheap white actor attempting to play a Mexican thug in a B-list movie. It is almost painful to listen to. Senor Villianito isn't even Spanish (or Mexican) and why he chose that type of accent is totally beyond me. I think he is actually from Europe somewhere, but I'm not sure. So he threatens and rambles forever as it seems, but that isn't even the worst part.
Senor Villainito has a passion for wearing extremely ugly clothing that doesn't match. Last time he threatened us he was wearing a violet hat, the type with a large floppy brim, an orange ruffled shirt, plaid breeches, and clear plastic chest-high waders. And these weren'tyour ordinary clear plastic chest-high waders either. Nope. These waders had large blue candy cane stripes on them and the feet looked as if they had been stuck in paint cans. So being around him was torture for the senses. Mine are now dulled to the point that I do not cringe every time I look at him.
When I got the call from Chrondricthyes Deli that Senor Villainito was outside with a detonator, I immediately slipped into my big firefighter's coat, slid on my boots and grabbed my lunch from where it sat on my desk. Then I rounded up Bessie and headed for the deli.
As I rolled down the street, I spotted him. Today Senor V. chose to wear an orange fedora, black fuzzy thigh-high boots with magenta leg warmers over them, a pair of turquoise spandex shorts, a yellow net shirt and a lime green blazer that looked as if it was from the women's section at JcPenney. I almost felt inadequately dressed in my firefighter's coat, black tank top (the weather is very hot right now), blue jeans and black hiking boots, but then I remembered-this guy is crazy and has no fashion sense- and I didn't feel quite as bad.
I pulled up in front of the deli and shut off Bessie. I hollered out the window, "Hey Senor V. What are we blowing up today?" If you are wondering about our familiarity, Senor V. and I have been working opposite one another for almost, wait exactly five years today. He calls me Queso and I call him Senor V. We have an odd relationship that developed over chance encounters in our local Piggly Wiggly, book discussions at the library, and many hours spent waiting to "blow up" something. I would be very surprised if he ever blew up anything. The man is such a softie, despite the fact he threatens to kill me every time I see him.
"Well I am planning to explode this deli of sharks, rays, and kites." He answered.
"What?"
"Chrondricthyes Deli. Chrondricthyes being the order of fish with cartilage skeletons like sharks, rays and kites."
"Oh. So why are you gonna blow the place up?"
"Do you remember the Carver's Bakery incident of '01?"
"Yeah, I think so. Didn't they insult you or something?"
"Yes, but today was more like discrimination than insults. They refused to serve me because of my accent. So now I will blow them all to smithereens…"
As Senor Villainito ranted and raved about discrimination, his plan and various other topics, I rolled up the window, dug out my sandwich and began to eat. Two hours, 1 Pepsi, some chips, an apple, and a brownie later he was still going strong.
"Kaisee," He said suddenly.
I jumped; startled from the daydream I was having about Orlando Bloom and the beach. I rolled down the window a bit.
"What?" I yelled crossly, because it was a very nice dream.
"Did you know that this is our five year anniversary?"
"Yeah, what about it?"
"I think I'm gonna kill you just so I will remember this day forever."
"Sure, whatever." I replied, as I rolled up the window, not caring because Senor Villainito made a habit of saying he was going to kill me.
"Well aren't you going to look and see how I am going to do it?" he said expectantly.
I glanced out Bessie's window to see him set off the detonator he held in his hand.
"Ha, ha, very funn…"
My words trailed off as theChrondricthyes Deli exploded.
A/N: Review!