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| Picture these babies alone making a beautiful blaze! |
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While we were eating our lunch, from off in the distance came the sound of what we perceived to be gunshots...six of them. At first, we were scared, thinking that whoever was firing the gunshots might venture into us and, after forcing us to lie prone at attention, shoot us in the back and depart, leaving our kneebacks facing the clear blue sky and our exposed meats for the birds, crabs and insects to devour. Luckily for us, though, whoever fired the shots came nowhere near our encampment. We were safe and went on to finished our lunch, after which, we decided, we would venture forth to seek out the possible victim of the gunshots...if any.
When we had finished eating, we rose to our feet and decided to go off in four different directions in search of the reason of the gunshots and their victim. Each one of us had a cellphone and promised that if, and when, we came upon the reason of the gunfire, we would inform the other three.
Lucky me!
I had come across the freshly-murdered body of a young man...no older than sixteen...stretched out face down, hands tied behind his back and his feet tightly bound at the ankles. He was white...handsome...well-built...attired in mid-thigh shorts, below-the-calf socks and sneakers. Four fresh bullet holes were clearly visible in the direct center of his back. Two more bullet holes were found behind each ear...undoubtedly the fatal shot or shots. The body was still a little warm, indicating that the youth was killed within the past half-hour.
I called Brian, Sean and Danny. Within five minutes, my friends joined me and, together, we looked down at the dead meat between the shorts and socks. We asked ourselves what we were going to do. It was Danny who came up with the best idea any of us ever had. We would get the gas can from my car, douse the leg meat and set them afire, lay face down at attention around the dead youth and murmur how we would wish we could be incinerated likewise if we are found dead in shorts.
I had the honor of pouring the gas upon the dead youth's meat. Brian lit a book of matches and tossed it upon the glistening meat, setting it ablaze. We fell face down upon the ground, slapping our palms against our thighs and snapped our own meats together...four live pairs of kneebacks facing the sky. I chanced to take a deep breath, getting a whiff of the smell of roasting almonds as the youth's meat burned down to the bone. It was an invigorating odor...really sweet.
We rose from the dead body with the legs still burning and returned to my car, taking the empty gas can with us. That night, we watched the early evening news, listening for any word about the dead youth being found...without legs.
