My Bad

Lucas and I had been drinking with some friends, hanging out in my apartment.  We went into a spare room where Lucas had been storing a bunch of his music equipment.  The room was full of amps, guitars, microphones, sound boards and mixers.  I bent to pick up a fog machine and foolishly chose to grip it by the water nozzle.  The nozzle broke off, shooting a jet of water into the air that wildly sprayed the entire room.  The equipment was soaked and completely ruined.

The damage came to $211,000.  I told Lucas I’d see if my renter’s insurance would pay for it.

Flight of the Zombie Bears

We were whitewater rafting in a remote canyon wilderness.  Some of our party had gone missing and I ventured out from camp to find them.  Strapping my life jacket on tight,  I leaped from the steep canyon wall to plummet into the river below.  The water was calm and cold.  Soon after a storm picked up.  Dark, violent clouds gathered overhead and a howling wind picked up, whipping up water off the surface to pummel my face.

Soon there was movement of another kind disturbing the water.  The rotting heads of two zombie-bears poked up from the river’s depths and started a slow but deliberate path towards me.  I didn’t panic.  There was no reason to fear; I had an easy escape route.

Spreading my arms out over the surface of the water I let the gale force winds quickly pick me up and send me soaring above the river and out of the canyon to land gently upon a tall peak overlooking the valley.  From there I spotted the start of a raging wildfire.

And it was heading directly for camp.