The Rural Voice, 1985-11, Page 70DWR
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52 THE RURAL VOICE
GISELE IRELAND
Watching
the fur fly
Super Wrench has a particular
talent that gives him a great deal of
pleasure and drives me to the aspirin
bottle. He loves to set people up, and
then sits back and watches the fur fly.
He hatches these plots on a regular
basis and feels that he is a master at
them.
One afternoon he was gabbing with
another couple around the kitchen
table when I was forced once again to
issue the regular warning to him.
Please keep the legs of the chair on
the floor. Super Wrench has
demolished more chairs with his jiggl-
ing and balancing acts than the
budget can stand. He straightened up
immediately.
I left the room for a period of time,
and the usual thing happened when I
was gone. Super Wrench, in a very
rhetorically active moment, lunged
forward on a chair with only two legs
on the floor, and snapped the back.
He immediately saw the ideal set-up.
He pushed the pieces all back
together and sat the wrecked chair at
the opposite end of the table. He got
another one. He cautioned the others
at the table to guard their expressions
when I sat down in the wrecked thing,
which he was hoping would collapse
around me. It didn't work out that
way.
Grandpa came into the kitchen
before I returned and he sat in the
chair. Being of a more sedate nature,
he didn't immediately bring the
desired results. I returned and served
coffee. Grandpa twisted around in his
chair to thank me, and Super
Wrench's plans bore fruit. Grandpa
hit his elbow trying to save himself
and I totalled a cup when it flew out
of my hand. My dismay and Grand-
pa's surprise broke the rest of them
up.
To add to their entertainment, I
launched into my usual explosive
tirade. Grandpa bore the brunt of it
while Super Wrench and company
held their sides in laughter.
When the room had cleared, I was
left with a smashed chair and a
gloating husband whose chest had ex-
panded another ten inches. He felt so
proud of the prank. I finally hit on a
way to give his colossal confidence a
prick. I told him that I knew of a guy
who was even better at orchestrating
a set-up than he was. Super Wrench
was all ears. I refused to elaborate un-
til Super Wrench had fixed the chair.
Curiosity spurred him on, and in no
time he was back in for me to relate
my tidbit.
I informed him that an acquain-
tance had recently been married. The
ceremony was of the plush variety,
with lots of guests and hoopla. Dur-
ing the formal dinner, the usual toasts
and speeches were made. Finally it
came time for the groom to address
the gathering, which he did. He
thanked the parents for the sump-
tuous day, and thanked the relatives
and guests for their lavish gifts. He
thanked the wedding members for
their efforts and finally got to the
bridal toast. He lifted his glass and
asked the guests to join him in
toasting his blushing bride. His toast
was the ultimate in set-ups. "Ladies
and gentlemen, here's to my bride,
who had such a great time spending
the night with the best man, that he
can have her." He calmly put his
glass down on the table and walked
out. Screeching, wailing, and fainting
followed. He had the marriage an-
nulled the next day.
Super Wrench agreed that the guy
had driven his point home with a
sledgehammer but denied that the guy
was in his class because Super
Wrench specialized in pranks.
"What's more," he said, "the guy
is really an amateur because he hasn't
yet learned that hell hath no fury like
a woman scorned." He had a
point. n
Gisele Ireland is a pork producer in Bruce
County. Her humourous column began
with The Rural Voice magazine and her
book "Bumps in your Coveralls" is bas-
ed on her column.