2 comments on “Smoky in the Boys’ Room: a Rebuttal

  1. Please Chris…That was such a stretching of the truth! A well written one but still a wive’s tale!

    Here’s the truth:

    A squeaky, cracked voice, in desperate need of a tonic water and lime snuck through the door crack and coaxed me out of my only restful night of sleep that week. “It’s really smoky!” Ron was right. White smoke clogged all my pores and grappled with my eyeballs. My lungs instantly filled thick char, but not the “Texas BBQ” kind…the “I’m gonna burn alive” kind. I’m pretty sure I could taste Ron’s hairy skin. My only reference point was Ron’s voice. I leapt to my feet and immediately crushed my portable hard drive. Stupid life or death situation. Chris Simning was stuck in the small “slave quarters” closet/room adjacent to my room, so he was probably still alive and just chokin. Mat and Lisa Weddle were shacked up downstairs and must be in heaven already. Being the kinda guy I am, I immediately sprang into survival mode. I could carry Chris out the window and down one of the trees, then come back for Ron…but we was probably to gangly so I might need to just toss him into the branches. Luggage was out of the question, but I could maybe cram the hard drive into my pocket in hopes of getting a refund. But maybe Mat and Lisa weren’t dead…better give them the benefit of the doubt.

    Ron and I crept blindly downstairs. Chris must have stopped for a snack on his way down because he was taking forever and we all know how long it takes him to eat. To our surprise, Mat came walking out of the desolation a modern day Shadrak. We all stumbled through the chaos to the fireplace, which had gone out many hours prior, to find a pile of resurrected logs. Man, these things put Cornerstone’s haze machines to shame! Mat, armed with the sudden knowledge that the house was still structurally sound, immediately went back to bed. Ron opened some windows, then also snuck back to his room. It was understandable-he has kids. I couldn’t believe the last 5 minutes of pandemonium was the product of this. How frustrating. For all we had been through in those few minutes I felt like I deserved a burning house.
    Chris finally made it down, and I had to explain to him that somehow 3 smoky logs had displaced all the oxygen in a two-story house. It felt a lot like explaining that faith the size of a mustard seed could move mountains.
    Well, nothing tops off an adrenaline filled midnight adventure than a 6 hour drive back to Arizona a few hours later. At least we would get a bathroom break in Blythe. Maybe I would pick up a Big Dog shirt at Flying J.

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