The even more clever idea...that just...might...work
I saw another movie, Mimic, (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119675/), where the heroes smear bug guts all over themselves, which makes them smell like bugs to all the other bugs, and allows them to infiltrate the hive.
I have no idea if this will work, but I tell the battallion to do it anyway. I figure even if it does work, we're all gonna die anyway. So it's not like I'd be in much trouble if it didn't.
Back along the roads, the battalion gathers up some squished ant carcasses, which really stink, and drags another two drowned ants from water, which don't smell at all. The next several hours are spent trying to pull the bodies apart.
"Can I shoot one?" Bob asks.
Instead of shooting, we work with levers, crow bars, hand instruments. Bullet proof doesn't mean everything proof. In fact, the endoskeletons give way with surprising ease. It doesn't make sense.
Athough we have several carcasses open, I'm reluctant to continue with the plan.
"What's wrong?" Asks Cullpepper.
I silently walk the line between the drowned ants, and the ants crushed by cars. On several pieces of endoskeleton, I find a strange concave circular indentation.
"What is it?" Cullpepper asks me again.
"I don't know. Where were the crushed bodies found?"
Two teeneagers and a woman in BDUs point down the road.
"I need to see the cars that hit them."
They shrug and keep pointing down the road. So I excuse myself and jog over. Dead ant smell lingers. The cars look like they've hit walls. They sit in the road crushed like soda cans into one half or one third thier size.
Cullpepper and others jog over and watch me.
"These cars didn't hit the ants." I say after a moment's silence.
"What are you talking about? The bodies were right under these cars." Says one of the teen age boys.
"But look at the cars. They look like they've been in a crash test."
"So?"
"So? They're ten foot tall ants. They would have hit the legs. If anything, the cars should look like they've hit trees."
"Well then what did they hit?"
And for some reason, in the same way all the action movies come down to one nutty idea, my brain answers with the concave indentations in the ant hide. Instantly, I run to
the last ant corpse, one we haven't started cutting yet. With the nearest crowbar I strike at an indentation. I aim right for it, swing home, and hit just right, or left, or above, or below. Everywhere, but exactly on the concave.
"Anyone else cutting have problems with these spots?" I call out. Most of the batallion nods. When placed directly above it, the crowbar wobbles in my hand.
For my next trick, I place a car in neutral, and roll it beside the body.
"Bob!" I call out. He hustles up. "Bob, let's test the 'ole Saw."
His eyes light up. "Really?"
"Just a couple test shots. I want you to stand here, take aim, and...squeeze off a few bursts." I say, trying to remember action-ese.
Bob looks to Cullpepper, who nods patiently. Everyone clears, Bob sets himself up.
"Fire in the hole!!" He calls out.
The 'Saw chuga chuga chuga's flying hot lead at the ant corpse, which treats us all to a spattering flashing light show. The car doors facing the ant, and on the opposite side of the chassis, shred.
Bob, happy just to shoot his gun, lets out a yell, but the wind covers him in dead ant stink so it turns into a coughing fit.
"Oh God!" He says. "Why, oh why, do they smell so bad?"
And then it finally occurs to me, because I know why. I always knew why.
"Cullpepper?" I say. "I have a much, much better idea."
I have no idea if this will work, but I tell the battallion to do it anyway. I figure even if it does work, we're all gonna die anyway. So it's not like I'd be in much trouble if it didn't.
Back along the roads, the battalion gathers up some squished ant carcasses, which really stink, and drags another two drowned ants from water, which don't smell at all. The next several hours are spent trying to pull the bodies apart.
"Can I shoot one?" Bob asks.
Instead of shooting, we work with levers, crow bars, hand instruments. Bullet proof doesn't mean everything proof. In fact, the endoskeletons give way with surprising ease. It doesn't make sense.
Athough we have several carcasses open, I'm reluctant to continue with the plan.
"What's wrong?" Asks Cullpepper.
I silently walk the line between the drowned ants, and the ants crushed by cars. On several pieces of endoskeleton, I find a strange concave circular indentation.
"What is it?" Cullpepper asks me again.
"I don't know. Where were the crushed bodies found?"
Two teeneagers and a woman in BDUs point down the road.
"I need to see the cars that hit them."
They shrug and keep pointing down the road. So I excuse myself and jog over. Dead ant smell lingers. The cars look like they've hit walls. They sit in the road crushed like soda cans into one half or one third thier size.
Cullpepper and others jog over and watch me.
"These cars didn't hit the ants." I say after a moment's silence.
"What are you talking about? The bodies were right under these cars." Says one of the teen age boys.
"But look at the cars. They look like they've been in a crash test."
"So?"
"So? They're ten foot tall ants. They would have hit the legs. If anything, the cars should look like they've hit trees."
"Well then what did they hit?"
And for some reason, in the same way all the action movies come down to one nutty idea, my brain answers with the concave indentations in the ant hide. Instantly, I run to
the last ant corpse, one we haven't started cutting yet. With the nearest crowbar I strike at an indentation. I aim right for it, swing home, and hit just right, or left, or above, or below. Everywhere, but exactly on the concave.
"Anyone else cutting have problems with these spots?" I call out. Most of the batallion nods. When placed directly above it, the crowbar wobbles in my hand.
For my next trick, I place a car in neutral, and roll it beside the body.
"Bob!" I call out. He hustles up. "Bob, let's test the 'ole Saw."
His eyes light up. "Really?"
"Just a couple test shots. I want you to stand here, take aim, and...squeeze off a few bursts." I say, trying to remember action-ese.
Bob looks to Cullpepper, who nods patiently. Everyone clears, Bob sets himself up.
"Fire in the hole!!" He calls out.
The 'Saw chuga chuga chuga's flying hot lead at the ant corpse, which treats us all to a spattering flashing light show. The car doors facing the ant, and on the opposite side of the chassis, shred.
Bob, happy just to shoot his gun, lets out a yell, but the wind covers him in dead ant stink so it turns into a coughing fit.
"Oh God!" He says. "Why, oh why, do they smell so bad?"
And then it finally occurs to me, because I know why. I always knew why.
"Cullpepper?" I say. "I have a much, much better idea."
posted by Max Orkin at 9:34 PM
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