Leaves blow...the sound of a modest cold breeze. CRRRRRRUNCH...crunch
crunch crunch! Appears as though from my distance...oh lord, is that a wasp
on two legs? It breathes out a menthol-like smell. crunch, crunch. Why is
this wasp-like creature having mints, hanging in the park at the dead of
midnight, out in the projects?
"Mints," the wasp exclaims with his mouth filled with some mint candy, "and
some reason these are actually pretty good". I ask for one nervously...
"Well take one!"
Into his can of mints, I take a random, and sniff one of them, admiring
it.
. . .
In the enjoyment, I did NOT realize that he slipped a sting both
metaphorically and physically. He stares at me cold as I edge on reality, going
dizzy from the mortifying pain. Dizzy...dizzy...
"That'd teach that fella not to go into the hood like that."
The tale of one curious fellow and mints.