I watched as the fire continued to sweep across the hillside consuming everything in it's path. While being mesmerized and devastated couldn't take my eyes off ...
the smoldering marshmallow on the end of my stick. I had been going for 'toasty-brown', but the final ingredient for my s'mores had caught fire in the inferno.
I noticed the inhabitants of the nearby houses had already evacuated. There had to be some chocolate in one of the houses. I also knew I had little time. Firefighters were just a few blocks away. Not only might they force me to evacuate, but they might discover that I had started the fire. They wouldn't understand. Nobody would. I couldn't resist my craving for s'mores cooked by a raging inferno.
I needed chocolate. I raced to the closest house and crushed down the door. In the kitchen I opened one cabinet after another in my desperate search for chocolate. I found peanut butter, Froot Loops, baking soda and mothballs.. none of those would work. Then I checked the refrigerator. I found prune juice, brussels sprouts, mayonnaise and green olives. I'd tried substituting olives for chocolate once.. only once. I shudder as I recall the horror. Then I saw, gleaming up at me in the light of the refrigerator I'd found the next best thing... hot dogs!!! The only thing that comes close to inferno s'mores was inferno hot dogs!! I know what you're thinking, and I have tried alternatives. I've tried roasting them over a candle, I've tried cooking them in a toaster (which I don't recommend)I've tried cooking them in a microwave(which is very entertaining by the way.. with both hot dogs and marhsmallows)I've even tried searing them with a magnifying glass; but nothing compares to a raging inferno. As I was basking in the anticipation of my flaming fiesta, I heard the sirens of the approaching fire trucks!
Those sons of b****es, trying to put out my fire! My eternal nemeses, the so-called civil servants, the wretched bane of my existence, the firefighters, who ought to be called s'more destroyers or roast-hot-dog haters, were arriving like a swarm of locusts, attacking my hot-dog harvest. Would I be wearing this silvery fire-proof suit, if I needed you destroyers of BBQ's? Fortunately, a raging inferno, especially the ones I start, cook hot dogs faster than even a microwave oven. I dodged and weaved through sparks and falling debris, looking for just the right kind of flames to flambe my frankfurter, praying to the blessed fire gods that the so-called civil-servants would not be raining on my hot-dog parade before the moment of flaming, seared hot-dog joy... no homo.
Then I saw it, in the distance.. the neighbor’s house down the street had exploded into a massive, roaring inferno! My heart leaped for joy as I sprinted, hot dogs in one hand, stick in the other, toward the raging conflagration. I hurriedly skewered the luscious meat tubules onto the stick and ceremoniously lofted them into the brightly glowing flames. Cautiously watching for the onslaught of the ‘bbq haters’ not far behind me, I monitored the progress of the sweltering hot dogs as they crackled in the fire. It is a finely calibrated art, roasting hot dogs…An art I’ve spent many years perfecting. They were nearly finished. I couldn’t turn away. I was mezmerized and captivated as I imagined how my beautiful inferno-dogs would taste… if only I had some chocolate to complete my inferno-banquet with some inferno s’mores.
"Hey!" Son of a... A firefighter had spotted me and was sprinting at me. And my hotdogs were almost done. Why does this always happen to me? I had found a perfect set of branches that would allow me to cook all of them simultaneously. But now I was faced with a choice. Would I continue to roast the hotdogs and try to gobble up as many as I could as I was being handcuffed? I didn't know if I had time. Would I drop the hotdogs and run? Never! Would I stand and fight? Seering hotdogs could make a dangerous weapon and remain edible...
I grabbed a flaming hot dog through my fireproof glove and hurled it at his shielded face. I thought it would buy me some time, as I hugged the rest of the inferno dogs to my chest. I could faintly feel the warmth of the smoldering tube steaks through my suit.
"It's a flame-retardant-suit arsonist! Get him!" the s'more destroyer yelled to his cronies. Oh, how I loathed the firefighters. Oh, the humanity! The fates were conspiring against me! The hosers, as I call them, were about to ruin my BBQ! But the enemy of my enemy, my true friend, the fire would be my salvation.
A nearby house exploded behind me, and the hoser flew several feet, crying out with arms flailing.
I made sure not to turn and look at the explosion, as I, assured of my escape, walked coolly with a steady stride, savoring the moment with each step, while the flames, as they always do, must have swelled out and then, just as quickly, ebbed back from whence they came. I could hear the house crumbling in on itself. I prayed to the fire gods that no chocolate was destroyed in the process.
I smiled to myself and pulled out an inferno dog, lifted my fire-retardant helmet, and raised it to my lips...
When suddenly I was knocked to the ground from behind. Hosers! I felt one of my inferno dogs scorch my face as I hit the ground. I knew it was over, but if I could just get one last taste... The delicious tubule was just out of reach. All I could do was barely press my tongue against it and steal a little bit of its heavenly savor, but much of it was lost in the dirt and pine needles. Once again, I prayed to the fire gods--let me enjoy the fruits of my labor. Ha ha! After they handcuffed me, the hosers left me lying there as they attempted to snuff the life out of my beautiful inferno. Did they think I would just wait for them? I seized one inferno dog in my teeth and scooted to grab the others in my shackled hands...
I counted the precious inferno dogs as I gathered them tenderly in my shackled hands… 6..7…8 there should have been ten. A pang of sorrow swept through me as I mourned the loss of two precious inferno dogs.. all of my efforts only two lose two precious… oh, wait.. I forgot about the one wedged in my mouth… I savored it amorously. The succulent, savory, salty, smokey, inferno-ey goodness flowed through me and washed over me like a rising tide. I was lost in the ecstasy of the tastiness of that one beloved inferno dog as I cradled the remaining 8 precious tubules of rapture… and still I grieved for the single lost inferno dog, sacrificed in a moments’ haste to deliver myself from the clutches of the inferno murdering hosers… all in vain. I reflected as I lay in the smoldering ashes, shackled, clutching my precious 8 as I savored the solitary inferno dog within reach of my eagerly awaiting taste buds.. unable to even reach the precious bounty in my silvery, fireproof-gloved hands.
That was the last time I'd ever eat or see a hot dog. At least that's what the judge says but I have different plans. As soon as I can bust myself out of this mental institution I'll be back with a package of franks and some pallets to build a nice bonfire in the parking garage under the courthouse for roasting. Doc says I don't need three and four alarm fires anymore to cook my food, hell, he even said that I could get by without smores or hot dogs for the rest of my life. I lied and agreed with him like I always do because it increases my chances of being moved to a lower security bloc in the asylum. Once there I'll get out. I don't know if I can live the rest of my life on a steady diet of rice, spam, salad, jello and ice cream. All things that can't be improved upon by placing in a hot, hot fire.
In hindsight, I was not unlike Prometheus, the brave titan who brought the gift of fire to man. I did a great deed, creating an enormous fire and cooking the greatest hot dogs known to man. But I was punished for it, despite my good intentions. I pray to the fire gods that I will one day be able to make inferno dogs or inferno spam again, and for the power to hold off the hosers long enough to make dozens of inferno dogs and inferno s'mores. Regardless, I am thankful to the fire gods for my great journey through the delicious, firey depths of inferno heaven.
the smoldering marshmallow on the end of my stick.
ReplyDeleteI had been going for 'toasty-brown', but the final ingredient for my s'mores had caught fire in the inferno.
I noticed the inhabitants of the nearby houses had already evacuated. There had to be some chocolate in one of the houses. I also knew I had little time. Firefighters were just a few blocks away. Not only might they force me to evacuate, but they might discover that I had started the fire. They wouldn't understand. Nobody would. I couldn't resist my craving for s'mores cooked by a raging inferno.
ReplyDeleteI needed chocolate. I raced to the closest house and crushed down the door. In the kitchen I opened one cabinet after another in my desperate search for chocolate. I found peanut butter, Froot Loops, baking soda and mothballs.. none of those would work. Then I checked the refrigerator. I found prune juice, brussels sprouts, mayonnaise and green olives. I'd tried substituting olives for chocolate once.. only once. I shudder as I recall the horror. Then I saw, gleaming up at me in the light of the refrigerator I'd found the next best thing... hot dogs!!! The only thing that comes close to inferno s'mores was inferno hot dogs!! I know what you're thinking, and I have tried alternatives. I've tried roasting them over a candle, I've tried cooking them in a toaster (which I don't recommend)I've tried cooking them in a microwave(which is very entertaining by the way.. with both hot dogs and marhsmallows)I've even tried searing them with a magnifying glass; but nothing compares to a raging inferno. As I was basking in the anticipation of my flaming fiesta, I heard the sirens of the approaching fire trucks!
ReplyDeleteThose sons of b****es, trying to put out my fire! My eternal nemeses, the so-called civil servants, the wretched bane of my existence, the firefighters, who ought to be called s'more destroyers or roast-hot-dog haters, were arriving like a swarm of locusts, attacking my hot-dog harvest. Would I be wearing this silvery fire-proof suit, if I needed you destroyers of BBQ's? Fortunately, a raging inferno, especially the ones I start, cook hot dogs faster than even a microwave oven. I dodged and weaved through sparks and falling debris, looking for just the right kind of flames to flambe my frankfurter, praying to the blessed fire gods that the so-called civil-servants would not be raining on my hot-dog parade before the moment of flaming, seared hot-dog joy... no homo.
ReplyDeleteThen I saw it, in the distance.. the neighbor’s house down the street had exploded into a massive, roaring inferno! My heart leaped for joy as I sprinted, hot dogs in one hand, stick in the other, toward the raging conflagration.
ReplyDeleteI hurriedly skewered the luscious meat tubules onto the stick and ceremoniously lofted them into the brightly glowing flames. Cautiously watching for the onslaught of the ‘bbq haters’ not far behind me, I monitored the progress of the sweltering hot dogs as they crackled in the fire. It is a finely calibrated art, roasting hot dogs…An art I’ve spent many years perfecting. They were nearly finished. I couldn’t turn away. I was mezmerized and captivated as I imagined how my beautiful inferno-dogs would taste… if only I had some chocolate to complete my inferno-banquet with some inferno s’mores.
"Hey!" Son of a... A firefighter had spotted me and was sprinting at me. And my hotdogs were almost done. Why does this always happen to me? I had found a perfect set of branches that would allow me to cook all of them simultaneously. But now I was faced with a choice. Would I continue to roast the hotdogs and try to gobble up as many as I could as I was being handcuffed? I didn't know if I had time. Would I drop the hotdogs and run? Never! Would I stand and fight? Seering hotdogs could make a dangerous weapon and remain edible...
ReplyDeleteI grabbed a flaming hot dog through my fireproof glove and hurled it at his shielded face. I thought it would buy me some time, as I hugged the rest of the inferno dogs to my chest. I could faintly feel the warmth of the smoldering tube steaks through my suit.
ReplyDelete"It's a flame-retardant-suit arsonist! Get him!" the s'more destroyer yelled to his cronies. Oh, how I loathed the firefighters. Oh, the humanity! The fates were conspiring against me! The hosers, as I call them, were about to ruin my BBQ! But the enemy of my enemy, my true friend, the fire would be my salvation.
A nearby house exploded behind me, and the hoser flew several feet, crying out with arms flailing.
I made sure not to turn and look at the explosion, as I, assured of my escape, walked coolly with a steady stride, savoring the moment with each step, while the flames, as they always do, must have swelled out and then, just as quickly, ebbed back from whence they came. I could hear the house crumbling in on itself. I prayed to the fire gods that no chocolate was destroyed in the process.
I smiled to myself and pulled out an inferno dog, lifted my fire-retardant helmet, and raised it to my lips...
When suddenly I was knocked to the ground from behind. Hosers! I felt one of my inferno dogs scorch my face as I hit the ground. I knew it was over, but if I could just get one last taste... The delicious tubule was just out of reach. All I could do was barely press my tongue against it and steal a little bit of its heavenly savor, but much of it was lost in the dirt and pine needles. Once again, I prayed to the fire gods--let me enjoy the fruits of my labor. Ha ha! After they handcuffed me, the hosers left me lying there as they attempted to snuff the life out of my beautiful inferno. Did they think I would just wait for them? I seized one inferno dog in my teeth and scooted to grab the others in my shackled hands...
ReplyDeleteI counted the precious inferno dogs as I gathered them tenderly in my shackled hands… 6..7…8 there should have been ten. A pang of sorrow swept through me as I mourned the loss of two precious inferno dogs.. all of my efforts only two lose two precious… oh, wait.. I forgot about the one wedged in my mouth… I savored it amorously. The succulent, savory, salty, smokey, inferno-ey goodness flowed through me and washed over me like a rising tide. I was lost in the ecstasy of the tastiness of that one beloved inferno dog as I cradled the remaining 8 precious tubules of rapture… and still I grieved for the single lost inferno dog, sacrificed in a moments’ haste to deliver myself from the clutches of the inferno murdering hosers… all in vain. I reflected as I lay in the smoldering ashes, shackled, clutching my precious 8 as I savored the solitary inferno dog within reach of my eagerly awaiting taste buds.. unable to even reach the precious bounty in my silvery, fireproof-gloved hands.
ReplyDeleteThat was the last time I'd ever eat or see a hot dog. At least that's what the judge says but I have different plans. As soon as I can bust myself out of this mental institution I'll be back with a package of franks and some pallets to build a nice bonfire in the parking garage under the courthouse for roasting. Doc says I don't need three and four alarm fires anymore to cook my food, hell, he even said that I could get by without smores or hot dogs for the rest of my life. I lied and agreed with him like I always do because it increases my chances of being moved to a lower security bloc in the asylum. Once there I'll get out. I don't know if I can live the rest of my life on a steady diet of rice, spam, salad, jello and ice cream. All things that can't be improved upon by placing in a hot, hot fire.
ReplyDeletebut then maybe.. just maybe.. Inferno-spam might not be half bad.... inferno jello, I'm not so sure about.. but you can never rule out anything.
ReplyDeleteIn hindsight, I was not unlike Prometheus, the brave titan who brought the gift of fire to man. I did a great deed, creating an enormous fire and cooking the greatest hot dogs known to man. But I was punished for it, despite my good intentions. I pray to the fire gods that I will one day be able to make inferno dogs or inferno spam again, and for the power to hold off the hosers long enough to make dozens of inferno dogs and inferno s'mores. Regardless, I am thankful to the fire gods for my great journey through the delicious, firey depths of inferno heaven.
ReplyDeleteAlas, I am now UNABLE TO HEAD FOR THE HILLS.
ReplyDeleteThanks for all the comment's I loved how the story was getting HOT.
ReplyDelete