b e n d f o l d s p i n d l e . c o m
		In the Beginning . . .
	(The following is a work of fiction, and none of the events described herein should be construed as factual or representative of actual events) The North American Opossum, Didelphis Virginiana, is my nemesis of late. It all started innocently enough. I was home in my apartment when my girlfriend asked me to come over right away because there was a 'possum in her backyard. I came over, and of course by the time I get over to her place the ugly bastard was gone. I still felt like a hero, though. Most men, even the middle aged, are waiting for a moment to define them, that chance to test one's mettle by saving a beautiful woman by destroying a hated enemy. My moment was to come sooner than I thought, and was to last longer than I hoped. At first it was fun. I began by considering various weapons to use against the 'possum. How innocent I was! I thought I could dispatch one with a well aimed rock or a three iron. Ha! What a rube I was! Experience is what kills childish creativity, not age. Over the course of a few nights consideration I decided I needed a proper weapon - a high powered pellet rifle. And like most adult decisions wherein I rationalize a need to spend money on a 'neccessity' it is generally guised in the desire to realize a childhood dream. I purchased an off brand single shot pellet rifle made in China. Everyone knows communist countries make the most lethal weapons. $89.00 was a trifle for such a powerful 1000 feet per second air rifle. I did splurge on the ammo however - I bought the most expensive precision pellets that were sharpend for penetration and accuracy, these were $12 for 500. Still incredibly cheap compared to real ammunition - even the cheapest .22 caliber rounds were $10.00 for a 100 rounds. I already owned a good quality headlamp that uses a triangular array of high lumens LED lamps and has 3 modes (another necessity for any grown man living in suburbia) and within a few days I was spending my evenings stalking the small condominium yard with a pellet rifle waiting for the loathsome creatures to scurry by on a block wall facing an open street and adjacent single family homes. When I first purchased the rifle I locked myself in my garage at my apartment and fired at a plywood target. To my amazement the pellet rifle was much more powerful than I imagined. It went through "5/8 plywood like a nail gun through saran wrap. I adjusted the sights and realized the weapon was extremely accurate as well. I was ready - or so I thought. It wasn't long before I had my first chance at blasting one of the creatures. The condo my girlfriend owns is surrounded by a 6' block wall nicely finished on top with a smooth rounded cement cap. It makes the perfect possum highway to cruise from backyard to backyard, searching for pet food, garbage or perhaps a refreshing drink from the water dish of a disinterested cat. I noticed they came out soon after dark and slowly scurried along this wall top dimly aware of anything to fear or avoid and made their rounds over and over again each night. Those first nights I came close to pulling the trigger a few times and was flushed with anticipation as to what the vile looking obtuse creature might do once hit. Would it cry out? Would it run? Would it get aggressive and attack? Having only purchased a single shot rifle I hoped it would do very little except fall over dead. I was waiting for the closest possible shot, being very concerned about missing the hated 'possum and perhaps hitting a parked car - or worse. I checked my background and soon arranged a shooting position that would negate most if not all risk to my girlfriend's neighborhood - (why weren't they doing something about this menace?) Finally one night I looked out from the condo's patio door to see not one but two 'possums blithely strolling down the 'possum highway on their way out for an evening of fine dining on gourmet pet food, or perhaps a rotting carcass of one of their fallen brothers. One was much larger (male) than the other (female) and elegantly deigned to stop and give me consideration as he passed. Much like an english gentleman in an tweedy elbow patched coat might do as he grinned down his long snout - his pink fleshy tail raised high for balance and haughty effect. "Fuck you" I thought. How fucking dare he make eye contact with ME? As if we were equals! AS IF he belonged here! I bolted for the rifle and pellets, donned my headlamp, went outside and broke open the barrel of the rifle and loaded a nice lead sandwich for my friends. I asked my girlfriend, Patricia, to douse all the lights and stay inside. I waited in the shadows. I waited until my eyes adjusted and I began to see the dimly in the night the two make their way to our neighbors yard. The large male stayed high on the wall as the female made her way down to the yard two doors down and reconnoitered their next meal. Still I waited and ducked down low so as not to be seen and waited some more. I popped up my head briefly to check on the position of my enemy. I saw the female moving in my direction. What had happened to the male? Perhaps he had moved on or perhaps he sensed something and scurried off in another direction. Who cares, there was little time. I checked the rifle to make sure the safety was off,  and fingered the switch on my headlamp to be sure I could light it to spot my foe and stop it in its tracks. A moment later the female rounded the corner and entered my kill zone. She was bigger than I thought, just seemed small compared to the much larger male. I hit the switch on my headlamp  and immediately the critter froze. Its eyes blazed in the hot spot light of the blue white LEDs I aimed and squeezed off the shot. The 'possum hesitated at first. Perhaps in disbelief or sheer stupidity. Perhaps it took that long for a signal to travel to its ancient cortex. Then it squirmed and lost its balance and fell head first in to the neighbors yard. It immediately began gasping for breath. . . hccchhhhhhhh, hccccccccccchhhhhhhhh, hcccccccccccccccchhhh over and over. I could hear it writhe in the dry unkempt bushes of the poorly tended yard next door, hhchhhhhcccccccccccchhhhhh, hccccccccccccccccchhhhhhh. It was disgusting. It was also very LOUD. I was immediately glad it was a cool night and neighborhood windows were likely to be closed. Hcccccccccccccccccccchhhhh, Hccccccccccccccccccccchhh ... sweet jesus what a sound. I must have got it through the airpipe. It was definately a mortal wound. I motioned inside to Patricia and she asked miming the words "Did you get it?" Oh I got it alright. Hccccccccccccccccccccccccchhhhh, Hcccccccccccccccccccccccchhhh, crimeny that thing was loud - and flopping around the brush by the sound of it. Slowly the gasping began to abate and slow. But for a good twenty minutes that frickin vile walking shitbucket flopped around and gasped. Christ. Sir Lawrence Olivier had less dramatic death scenes. Die already. Finally all was quiet. The war had begun.