Back yard of Detroit Suburbia.
Life is good, kids asleep, neighbors over for a cocktail and little suburban backyard fire pit.

All is right with the world.

And here he comes.

Everyone’s a little buzzed. Guy from 3 doors down says ” Dude…$20 says ya can’t tag the stink kitty with the Rytera.”

Are you freakin’ kidding me?

Never, and I mean NEVER challenge Kelly after Jimmy’s been visiting.

Stealth mode to the garage, 3 boys behind me giggling like school girls.

Locked and loaded and around the back. Girls are smarter….they go next door.

He’s in the neigbors yard now but he’s with me. Kenny? Clear for takeoff?
“Take um”

Judo does a number even in the darkness we can tell…but lil evil aint done.

Reverse…..right back to us spraying his love juice all the way.

Dog? Direct hit.
Fence? Covered.

The juice is like olfactory napalm. Nauseating.

The girls are moving down a house yelling already, not 90 seconds into it.

He’s done. The aftermath is excruciating. No one is laughing anymore. Even the crickets have silenced in awe at our stupidity.

Kenny says ” I’ll grab your arrow, my stupid idea”

It’s still in him. He grabs the shaft and the skunk returns from the dead dangling from the shaft and sprays him dead in the chest.

And me, and the other 2 jackals who thought “aint my yard”

It’s an hour old and my neighbors have wisely fled to their own spousley punishment…not near the ferocity of mine.

My kids are awake. They ALL are.4 doors down I can hear yelling conversations only making out words like “school night” and “Motel” and “jackass”

So I sit in my garage, where I’ll be sleeping tonight, with my laptop and a clothes pin on my nose. Here to warn others of my foolishness.

Don’t shoot it unless it’s far away and you never, ever plan on using that arrow again.

*** Under no circumstances does the author condone drinking Jack Daniels or Jim Beam with a Bow and Arrow chaser. The above is a work of pure fiction…well most of it…ok, some of it….