As the snow falls relentlessly outside my apartment. As the temperature drops below zero yet again. As my arch nemesis, Old Man Winter dances tauntingly on my patio (read about my trials and tribulations with Old Man Winter in a previous post - I Hate Winter.) I am reminded how much I hate winter. I mean I really hate it.
But what could I do?
What could I do I’ve asked myself for my entire life. Then one day not to long ago I had an idea. Probably why watching the snow fall and feeling the frigid touch of Old Man Winter this weekend was especially painful to me. Even more painful to me is the knowledge of how close I came to ushering in an early spring.
I was so very close.
The idea came to me on Thursday, January 28th, while watching Groundhog Day, one of my favorite movies starring Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell. It was so simple and so obvious I wondered why no one else thought of it before.
It would take a quick trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania and my desire to avenge Old Man Winter would be satisfied. The key to my plan, Punxatawney Phil, the little rat that we all wait upon to come out of a hole in the ground on February 2nd. Stop the little rat from seeing his shadow and winter ends.
After musing about ways to accomplish this I decided on the direct approach; choke the living shit out of the fucking rat. My thinking a dead rat isn’t going to see any shadow…right?
I have four days.
First, I must prepare. I do some research. He lives at the public library in Punxsutawney. Making him an easy target. Now how does he manage this? Interestingly, Phil is 200 years old. It seems he’s kept alive by some magical potion administered by his protectors – The Inner Circle. I find especially disturbing the fact that Punxsutawney Phil has seen his shadow a mind blowing 86% of the time. Which means that Punxsutawney Phil is the cause of six extra weeks of winter for 86% of the winters over the last 200 years.
The rat must die….
Especially disturbing to me is why does a rodent that serves no other purpose than to eat, shit and make other little rodents need protection from a mysterious group of men called the Inner Circle? Unless, as I am beginning to suspect something devious, sinister and cold-blooded is going on behind the scenes.
It’s a conspiracy.
But whom are the parties responsible? Aliens? The Illuminati? The reptilians? The shadow government? Satan himself?
No, I think that something much more sinister is at work here manipulating and pulling the strings of Mr. Punxsutawney Phil.
After a night of studying the facts I come to the conclusion my friends and faithful supporters of The Devolution of Man we are being cheated by an axis of evil.
This axis of evil includes my arch nemesis the cold-hearted bastard Old Man Winter. His side kick – one cool customer – Jack Frost. In addition, I suspect that Mother Nature’s heart has been chilled by a kinky menage a trois with both Old Man Winter and Jack Frost.
While we can trust Fox news to be fair and balanced in reporting the news. We can no longer trust Mother Nature to be fair and balanced in giving us a fair and balanced representation of the seasons.
Her kinky desires have short-changed us on spring.
I know I had to stop this insanity. So, on January 29th, I pack my bags and head to Pennsylvania. I arrive late in the afternoon. Everywhere I see men in black suits and top hats. My instincts tell me that the axis of evil has tipped off the town folk to my plans and my utter hatred for winter.
However, I will not be intimidated.
I find the library. It’s closed. Across the street stands a serious looking man in a black coat and top hat. He’s watching my every move.
I break in and once inside I locate Punxsutawney Phil immediately. He looks innocent, but I know this groundhog is anything but innocent. I survey his plush complex. Obviously, he has benefited from his extraordinary skill.
He suspects nothing as I approach. I grab the little rat.
His neck fits perfectly in my right hand. I begin to choke. He kicks and squirms.
I feel a release. The tension and aggravation from sitting and staring outside at the the fucking snow, listening to the wind howl, scraping the ice from my car and living in temperatures that would freeze a polar bears nuts off washes away.
The little rat turns a shade of blue and I know that spring is right around the corner.
Just as Punxsutawney Phil is about to take his final breathe a man in a black coat and top hat enters the room, followed by another, then two more.
Then Old Man Winter, then Jack Frost, then Mother Nature.
Quickly I hide my right hand behind my back and the groundhog with it.
I loosen my grip. He can breathe, but can’t escape.
“Release Phil…” Mother Nature says.
“What…Who’s Phil?” I reply.
“Phil’s the groundhog…The one you have behind your back.” Mother Nature scowls.
“Oh you mean this guy…” I pull my hand from behind my back. The groundhog dangles kicking and flaying his little arms and legs. He’s gasping for breathe as I release him.
She raises her hands and says….”Just remember Greg…it’s not nice to fool Mother Nature.”
‘Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh” I scream as the lightning bolt strikes me.
I wake from my coma in the Punxsutawney area hospital on February 2nd at precisely 7:30 A.M. I’m handcuffed to my bed. The television is on, it’s snowing outside and the announcer says with a smile…..
“Punxsutawney Phil, the Seer of Seers, Prognosticator of Prognosticators, was awakened from his winter nap at 7:28 by the huge crowd of his faithful followers….”
The fucking rat saw his shadow and its six more weeks of winter.
In the coming weeks, The judge gave me community service for my crimes, cleaning up groundhog shit, shoveling snow and building snowmen for the disadvantaged.
I hate winter.