Girl Scouts are evil, man.  They try to fool you with those cheery little smiles, those freckles, and crooked teeth.  Sometimes they’ll even offer you cookies for nothing but your eternal, blind trust (and ten dollars).  Don’t be fooled.  Girl Scouts are evil.

My fiberglass wall fountain, the pride and joy of my front patio, now lies in shambles, an innocent victim.

Oh, it began innocently enough (it always does).  I was summoned to my door by a most vicious knock, a tapping that can only be compared to the last desperate grasps of a corpse attempting to escape from its final wooden resting place.  And suddenly, a crash, a dying scream from a silent witness.  And there she was-Beelzebub in an eight year old girl’s body-standing, staring, admiring her careful handiwork.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she teased.  “I was just leaning against here, waiting for you to come.”

“Leaning?”

“Yeah.”

Her mother-or for all I know, her parole officer-came jogging over, her visage expressing the emotions of either excitement or worry.

“Jenny!  Apologize.”

“I did!” she protested.

She did.  And all I have to show for the pieces of mounted wall fountains that were once a single, beautiful fountain is a personal check for fifty dollars and a box of Do-Si-Dos.

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