oh, the horror of it all

I think we can all agree that packing materials can be scary substances. Maybe not as scary as mannequins or Rip Taylor, but scary nonetheless. Nothing, however, approaches the terror of the night that Styrofoam came to life! Muuwahahahahahhaaah!!

It happened on this wise. I had just crested the hill where 231st meets Kingsbridge and I was immediately buffeted by a wind that was both violent in force and full of stinging particles. The pressure was XLerator-like in its intensity.

I began walking down the hill, opposite a shopping center that features among other things my favorite little store, Kalinka. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a man staggering on the edge of the curb across the street. Just as I turned, he fell into the oncoming path of a truck! Kabloom!! He exploded into a mass of white chunks and scattered across the two lanes. It was then I realized he was not a man, but a massive block of Styrofoam™. Then, falling like trees, the remaining 6 foot towers crashed in the street. It was a strange sort of carnage as each one was obliterated by oncoming traffic.

My nerves were a bit twitchy as I continued my walk home. About the time that I got to the dress shop owned by the insane Asian woman I was startled by a couple of packing peanuts that rounded the corner by the Veterinary hospital. They looked at me for a second, and then started running toward me, followed by about 1 million of their minions. It was truly terrifying and reminded me of an army of very tiny rabbits hopping madly in unison. Then I looked around and saw that the entire block was full of them, tiny little blobs of white running around in perfect unison up and down 231st St. Weaker willed men might have soiled their pants, like my friend David when he thought he saw a bear in Canada when we were kids, but not me. No sir. Where the living dead packing peanuts went after that, I'll never know, but I made it home, panting and relieved to be alive.