June 17, 2003

True Detective

Image copyright Fred First
"Well Jiminy H Cricket"! I muttered to nobody (which was just exactly the number of folks within a mile of the house) as I extracted Occupant's Junk Mail from our green metal mailbox at the edge of our dirt road. "What kindofa world is it where folks get their jollies by shooting a person's mailbox!?" I had just that moment discovered a jagged hole in the middle of the left side, and sure enough, another exit hole on the opposite side of the box, just above the red flag that sat in 'no outgoing mail' position.

"Well crap. I'll have to get the needlenose pliers and some duct tape and see if I can undo the mischief some crazy-eyed moonshine-swilling yayhoo has done here" I thought. I considered calling the law right there and then, just to register my complaints about the fallen nature of man in general, knowing there wouldn't be a blamed thing they could do to find the redneck bumpkin that let daylight into my mailbox.

Just the facts, m'am. Just the facts. I assessed the situation with both the cool head of the sleuth and the anxious paranoia of the victim. Hmmm. Looking through the bullethole nearest the road, I could sight through the dark inside of the mailbox to see the trajectory, and hmmm... it would appear that the bullet would have passed through the box and struck somewhere on the front porch. I roped off the scene with copious ribbons of yellow crime tape.

Nope. Nothing there, no holes in the siding, no broken glass, no lipstick-smudged slender cigarette butts. But now: there is that little pine tree between the mailbox and the porch, right in the pathway of the bullet, so that I could not see the mailbox from the porch through the pine's branches. Hmmm, I thought.

Wait just a minute! I KNOW who did it! I am hot on the heels of the perpetrator and even now, I know he can feel me breathing the hot breath of the law down his scrawny neck. What if... could it be? that instead of the bullet coming up from the road, it came down into the mailbox... FROM THE PORCH! That's right, you connivin' slimy bug-lover. You have nowhere to hide now, you despicable treehugger.

I build my case: Is it not true that just the other day you bragged to your wife that you shot at and hit the Phoebee that has built four foul (fowl?) nests on your front porch? Admit it! You went so far as to tell her that the bird had been sitting WHERE? That's right: in the pine tree there off the front porch, the one just this side of the mailbox. Stay right there you sleazy word freak, while I check out one final nail in your sorry coffin.

Just as I thought! The exit hole has left a flap of green aluminum on the side of the mailbox AWAY FROM THE HOUSE, proving that the bullet did indeed come from the house, and it was you... YOU who shot a hole in your own mailbox while plinking small perching birds from the porch! Oh this is contemptible... that you would try to hang the wrap on your toothless brethren who drive past your house in the dark of night.

The dirt road detective recited in his most monotone Joe Friday voice: You have the right to remain silent (but looking at your weblog of the past year, this is not bloody likely)....

I slapped the handcuffs on the criminal's wrists and wisked me away, sobbing. I am incarcerated now in the white clapboard house near the damaged mailbox, and will be serving a sentence of three hundred thousand words to life. I am counting on early parole for good adverbs. Please send e-cards (and if you could slip a small file in as an attachment, it'd be muchly appreciated.)

Posted by fred1st at June 17, 2003 05:51 AM | TrackBack

So, you've resorted to shooting innocent mail-boxes, have you?

(Just teasin', buddy. I hope Ann doesn't give you too much of a hard time about it...)

Posted by: ronbailey at June 17, 2003 06:39 AM

Too funny!! I always figured you had criminal tendencies.

Posted by: Lisa at June 17, 2003 09:57 AM

Dad, between you and Mom, that damned little pheobe will be the death of you before the summer is over. You two never do fall fallow in providing entertainment. Thanks, Pop. Signed,

Posted by: your son anyway at June 17, 2003 03:49 PM

What did that Phoebe do to you?

Posted by: Joel at June 18, 2003 06:27 AM

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