I flashed back to the days of my youth, to the time when me and Joe Birdidnik's cousin Bruce were walking along the shores of my daddy's swamp. We both carried pointed sticks, sharpened to razor-points. A small turtle had worked itself too far inland and never had the chance to escape to the water before Bruce and I descended upon it.
The poor little turtle had its head stuck out of the shell, staring forlornly at the water, realizing it could never make it there in time -- the two humans had cut off its escape route.
At that point, I poked my stick at its head and the head snapped inside the shell as if it was attached to a powerful spring.
I hadn't thought of that particular incident until Bipolarbear wrote this...
Quote:Well when that blade came whooshing down in my general direction I atrophied right quick I can tell you....
