Friday, August 18, 2000

Milk - It does a body... good?

The stench of milk drying in 85 degree heat can only be matched and surpassed by the following true story:

Two weeks ago Donna and I worked for two days cleaning up the the basement. We hauled out old nonsense we did not need. We vacumed where we had not vacumed in months. We shipped old books off to the Goodwill. And in the end Jessica could have a sleep over in the basement with all her friends. Cool!

To make it easier for us to clean we propped the door to the garage open so we could easily enter and exit from the basement. We used a small board for this purpose. Just a unassuming peice of 1/2 inch pine board. Near the end of the last day of cleaning the door closed. Oops! I went to prop it open again. Board? Couldn't find it. Where had it gone? Who knew. Maybe Donna was using something else. Okay a shoe will do just fine. Party went great.

Weeks passed, (Weeks). Then, four days ago I decided to boil up some ravioli's. I go down into the garage to our freezer to get the suckers out. I open the door and picked up a package of ravioli's. Brain first uses sense of touch to determine that A: package is warm and B since it is warm it cannot be frozen. Sense of smell is then hit by the equivelent of a tsunami. The olfactory center of the brain is wrecked, neurons scrambling for cover as the cascade of stench has to be processed. Nerve impluses are quickly sent to the left arm to slam the door shut as a last desperate attempt to stave off the oncoming horror. Higher neural functions then process the data.

Food not frozen, stink comming from freezer really nasty. All this means a catastrophic event has occured. I check the back of the freezer to see if it is plugged in. Oh...there is the board that went missing. When the door closed, a whopping two weeks earlier, it had propelled the board behind the freezer and uplugged the unit.

After several minutes of extremely nasty cursing, I take a safty breath and open the door. It is like the physical incarnation of an HP lovecraft novel. The call of Cthulu wafts out from that dank coffin of decayed meat. We had about seventy pounds of beef, lamb, and other meats in there. They have all thawed out and created a black lake of moldering blood in the drip pan at the bottom of the freezer. It only take a few seconds for me to mentally right off the entire contents.

We decide to plug the unit back in and refreeze the abominable contents so that when I clean it out the disguto-meter will not be destroyed. The inquest into what happened, and what should be done to make sure that so tragic and accident does not occur and again, determined that the gap between the freezer and wall should be covered. I used the same board for this purpose. The inquest also determined that the plugs should be screwed into the wall so that they cannot easily be unplugged. Gory disguting meat is now languishing in the dump.

The End.

No comments: