by Dot the crazy cat lady in space #8

I can't believe it. I finally get a guy interested in me, and he bursts into flames and explodes to smithereens in front of all the neighbors on a national holiday.

Yes, the guy in question was that short fat proselytizing goofball from space #73, Anil Roberts. But he's still a guy and he still had the hots for me, and I'm sure you're all in agreement that he burst into flames and exploded in front of all of us on the Fourth of July.

I'd just taken an evening stroll down to the duckpond to participate in all the holiday festivities. On my way down the driveway I saw Anil talking to Virginia Beadle, the old lady who lives over in space  #17 . He was pulling a brochure or something out of his hip pocket and handing it to her.

When I walked by Anil and old lady Beadle, I seen Anil's eyes pop out of his head like they was on springs or something. He licked his lips and excused himself and fled the old bat, trotting after me. He caught up with me at the barbecue grill. I seen him slow down and smooth his hair and saunter up to me like nothing.

I stood there eating a hot dog and listening to Anil make small talk. A bunch of neighbors was over by the gazebo, snickering and pointing at us. I figured they were just making jokes about religious goofballs and woodies or something, but no. They was over there giggling about the brochures in Anil's pocket getting too close to the barbecue and catching fire.

I had just took a big old bite outta that hot dog when all of a sudden, Anil made the most godawful screech, like this: EEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH-OOOOOOOOOOH and bolted. He was slapping at his fiery ass and as he did he made a AAAGH noise with every step. I stood there and watched flaming Anil run smack dab into a pickup truck full of illegal Mexican fireworks, swatting madly and hollering, AAAGH-AAAGH-AAAGH-AAAGH-AAAGH-AAAGH-AAAGH all the way there.

Soon as Anil hit the tailgate of that truck, his assfire jumped onto all them cherry bombs, M-80s, M-160s, projectile-firing Roman candles, bottle rockets, chimney rockets, little bitty firecrackers and of course all them great big bundles of dynamite Rogelio had in the bed of his pickup truck.

We all stood there and watched as Anil and the truck and all them fireworks went up in smoke. The whole sky was filled with fire and spent black powder. The air was filled with gunpowder smell and the POW-POW-ka-POW, BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-ka-BANG and the final big BWOOOOOOOM when everything got blowed to Kingdom Come, just the way Anil would have wanted it.

Anil went out with a cacophony of firework noises and explosives. It even made the paper, only it happened so quick, nobody figured out it was us.  All that got reported in the paper was some unsolved case of a alleged illegal firework show.

Anil's death did not go unappreciated. I mean, really, who but a bunch of trailerpark yokels would appreciate seeing something like that? And all that racket, hoooo-wee! We got a whopping 120 seconds of the loudest, most frequent fireworks and explosive noises ever.

Anil didn't just go out with a bang, he went out with a whole exploding orchestra.

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