This post has been coming for awhile.
So on one of the last days of our vacation in Crete (land of Everything Fantastic (plus olive oil!!)), Captain Awesomepants and I decided to go to the Dikteon Cave. This is not an important detail, though I will say that the cave was very nice if you like that kind of thing, though it smelled a little bit like poo and was dark and cave-y and had many creepy crawlies and Cpt Awesomepants informed me half way up the donkey track (literal) that he hates caves. And that he had just remembered that fact (????). He persevered, and lived to tell the tale.
Moving on.
The drive UP (literal) to the Dikteon cave was harrowing, as it is up a cliff using switchbacks and I'm afraid of heights. I'm afraid of a lot of things, but heights make me really jumpy and I have to keep talking unless the fear overtakes me and my head falls off. Weirder things have happened. So I was babbling. This is where my story begins.
I asked Cpt Awesomepants what kind of animal he would be if he could be anything and he was all: raven, because ravens are neato and stuff. note: this is a summary. There are a lot of other things he said but I was too busy panicking.
And then he asked me what kind of animal I'd be, and without thinking I reply: A BUZZARD.
Because seriously? Buzzards are cool. And whenever you ask someone that question, they answer with something predatory and all sexy-like, such as lion or tiger or puma or wolf or hawk or eagle or bantha and no one ever says something to the effect of: if I was an animal I'd totally be a dairy cow. Or a fruit bat! Anyways, I just think buzzards get a bad rap.
If I was a buzzard, I would be slightly more... methodical... than your average buzzard. I would have a normal buzzard childhood but then I would decide to take a different path in life. I would become a rebellious buzzard and slightly indifferent to the fear of others (I would be, after all, a buzzard teenager). I would do things like:
1. Scare the ever loving hell out of people at restaurants.
Imagine, if you will, a lovely spring evening where people are sitting outside on the patio having dinner at a fantastic cafe and all of a sudden, a giant buzzard lands at the table.
Sparrows and songbirds are cute and sometimes people throw them crumbs, but a buzzard? Buzzards are terrifying and are usually only present when something has died and has begun to smell really, really bad. Thus the association is a negative one. Thus whoever was eating would run screaming. And I would get free food. These would be the less respectable years for me.
Eventually I would become slightly more mature and, let's face it, just a bit repentant for all those years of terrorizing well dressed people away from their highly edible food.
I would move on to:
2. Scaring the ever loving hell out of a select group, i.e: namely assholes.
They might not notice at first, but even a completely oblivious bastard is eventually bound to notice a large, carrion eating, red-headed and sharp beaked buzzard following them.
I've never been stalked by a buzzard before, but I can imagine it would be a harrowing experience.
Once they went home, I'd sit outside their window and wait until the morning came, when they foolishly opened the blinds expecting just another sunshine-y, happy, buzzard-free day in which they can continue being complete turd bags to everyone and everything around them.
3. NO.
Once animal control got called in I'd leave, but there would always be a lingering suspicion that there was a reason, a very good reason, that a ginormous buzzard was stalking you for the better part of a week.
Because at this point in my buzzard life, I'd be kind of big. Not dinosaur-huge, but bigger than the big buzzards. Also, I would have far outlived the standard buzzard life expectancy of 21 years (even surpassing Nero, the famous in-captivity turkey vulture who lived to be 37). I'd be somewhere between 50 and immortal.
And I'd have a following. Though flying around dead carcass all day is fun, methodically scaring the pants off of villainous dirtbags would be far more entertaining. And because the only thing more entertaining than scaring said villainous dirtbag by yourself is doing it with a bunch of your friends.
Eventually I would give the group a name. We would be known throughout all the lands as....
Because though justice is its own reward, the Buzzards of Justice aren't afraid to use whatever means are available to them to drive the point home. Repeatedly. And on your head.
*Dikteon Cave: Cave which was reputed to be the place where Zeus survived.**
**He survived because there are loud birds at the entrance, and they would drown out his cries so that the Angry/Hungry Dad Unit couldn't hear him.***
***This was necessary because Cronos, Zeus' father, was super hungry and ate all his children because of a prophecy that one day, one of his offspring would overthrow him. You know, like you do.****
****Btw, that totally happened. Yay Zeus! Way to survive. The end.
So on one of the last days of our vacation in Crete (land of Everything Fantastic (plus olive oil!!)), Captain Awesomepants and I decided to go to the Dikteon Cave. This is not an important detail, though I will say that the cave was very nice if you like that kind of thing, though it smelled a little bit like poo and was dark and cave-y and had many creepy crawlies and Cpt Awesomepants informed me half way up the donkey track (literal) that he hates caves. And that he had just remembered that fact (????). He persevered, and lived to tell the tale.
Moving on.
The drive UP (literal) to the Dikteon cave was harrowing, as it is up a cliff using switchbacks and I'm afraid of heights. I'm afraid of a lot of things, but heights make me really jumpy and I have to keep talking unless the fear overtakes me and my head falls off. Weirder things have happened. So I was babbling. This is where my story begins.
I asked Cpt Awesomepants what kind of animal he would be if he could be anything and he was all: raven, because ravens are neato and stuff. note: this is a summary. There are a lot of other things he said but I was too busy panicking.
And then he asked me what kind of animal I'd be, and without thinking I reply: A BUZZARD.
Because seriously? Buzzards are cool. And whenever you ask someone that question, they answer with something predatory and all sexy-like, such as lion or tiger or puma or wolf or hawk or eagle or bantha and no one ever says something to the effect of: if I was an animal I'd totally be a dairy cow. Or a fruit bat! Anyways, I just think buzzards get a bad rap.
If I was a buzzard, I would be slightly more... methodical... than your average buzzard. I would have a normal buzzard childhood but then I would decide to take a different path in life. I would become a rebellious buzzard and slightly indifferent to the fear of others (I would be, after all, a buzzard teenager). I would do things like:
1. Scare the ever loving hell out of people at restaurants.
Imagine, if you will, a lovely spring evening where people are sitting outside on the patio having dinner at a fantastic cafe and all of a sudden, a giant buzzard lands at the table.
Sparrows and songbirds are cute and sometimes people throw them crumbs, but a buzzard? Buzzards are terrifying and are usually only present when something has died and has begun to smell really, really bad. Thus the association is a negative one. Thus whoever was eating would run screaming. And I would get free food. These would be the less respectable years for me.
Eventually I would become slightly more mature and, let's face it, just a bit repentant for all those years of terrorizing well dressed people away from their highly edible food.
I would move on to:
2. Scaring the ever loving hell out of a select group, i.e: namely assholes.
They might not notice at first, but even a completely oblivious bastard is eventually bound to notice a large, carrion eating, red-headed and sharp beaked buzzard following them.
I've never been stalked by a buzzard before, but I can imagine it would be a harrowing experience.
Once they went home, I'd sit outside their window and wait until the morning came, when they foolishly opened the blinds expecting just another sunshine-y, happy, buzzard-free day in which they can continue being complete turd bags to everyone and everything around them.
3. NO.
Once animal control got called in I'd leave, but there would always be a lingering suspicion that there was a reason, a very good reason, that a ginormous buzzard was stalking you for the better part of a week.
Because at this point in my buzzard life, I'd be kind of big. Not dinosaur-huge, but bigger than the big buzzards. Also, I would have far outlived the standard buzzard life expectancy of 21 years (even surpassing Nero, the famous in-captivity turkey vulture who lived to be 37). I'd be somewhere between 50 and immortal.
And I'd have a following. Though flying around dead carcass all day is fun, methodically scaring the pants off of villainous dirtbags would be far more entertaining. And because the only thing more entertaining than scaring said villainous dirtbag by yourself is doing it with a bunch of your friends.
And we all know that the only thing more terrifying than being stalked by a buzzard is being stalked by a pack of buzzards.
*yes I know the correct word is flock. I like pack better.
Eventually I would give the group a name. We would be known throughout all the lands as....
BUZZARDS OF JUSTICE.
We would have flags and t-shirts and probably a website, and the corksucking bastages of the world would tremble in fear when they heard the telltale flapping of wings. Justice has come for you, evil-doer. Justice and copious amounts of bird poo. You will never be clean again, ever.
Because though justice is its own reward, the Buzzards of Justice aren't afraid to use whatever means are available to them to drive the point home. Repeatedly. And on your head.
*Dikteon Cave: Cave which was reputed to be the place where Zeus survived.**
**He survived because there are loud birds at the entrance, and they would drown out his cries so that the Angry/Hungry Dad Unit couldn't hear him.***
***This was necessary because Cronos, Zeus' father, was super hungry and ate all his children because of a prophecy that one day, one of his offspring would overthrow him. You know, like you do.****
****Btw, that totally happened. Yay Zeus! Way to survive. The end.
