Reporting live from the funny farm airport! Our latest snake fiasco. For the previous snake story, go here!
Steve spotted a four foot snake crossing the airport driveway and hollers, “Snake!” Then out the door he sprints. “I can get it!”
Now, you must understand, when I asked Steve to be a Tarzan and kill the snake, I mean with a shovel. Steve is not a Tarzan type with rippling muscles who can twist a snake’s head off with his bare hands. He’s a short, round pilot with white running shoes. However, his shoes have never actually reached sprint mode before, nor Steve for quite some time.
Nonetheless, I excitedly dash out the door, camera in hand, to photograph the killing of the beast, but what I witness is Steve lunging toward the hard concrete fast. I thought, WOW, he’s actually tackling the snake. Nice dive, dude! My next thought was, but what if the snake is poisonous.
When I reach his side, he’s lying on the concrete holding his wrist. First, I look for the snake just in case the beast is lying nearby and has reared its ugly head. Then I politely ask, “Did he bite you? Are you okay?”
“No, I tripped over my tennis shoes. I was going to catch the snake by the tail, if it wasn’t poisonous, so you could take a picture of it,” Steve admits.
Dear noble pilot, could you please just kill the snake next time, I’m will to photograph a dead species. For now, I have placed a shovel in the front door as a warning for all trespassing snakes — we aim to kill, maybe.
I have enclosed the crime scene below.
He that diggeth a pit shall fall into it; and whoso breaketh an hedge, a serpent shall bite him. Eccl. 10:8