A Possum Story.

The other day, I got an email from my Sis B.  It said, in it's entirety, "If you need something to blog about, ask S (our other sister) about the possum on her porch."

So I did what every good sis would.  I jumped on Facebook and posted a message on her wall.  "I hear you may have a good story about a possum."

Days pass.  Nothing.  No response from my Sis S.  A couple of our equally redneck cousins commented, asking her to hurry up and tell the story already, but still nothing.  Sis S is not known for her... ahem... punctuality...

Anyway, today my Sis B called me to tell me another long and equally complicated and redneck-y story about an air conditioner, and while I had her on the phone, I asked her about the possum.

This is a story told about tenth hand, so all mistakes and embellishments are my own.  Sis - you had your shot to tell it as the truth.  Now it will just be legend...

Late one evening last week, my Sis S and Niece K were coming home from a day of shopping.  It was late in the evening, as it often is when they get home, and Niece K was carting dinner - a bucket of chicken - into the house.

It was dark, and the only light was from the single bulb on the front of the house.  As Niece K approached the porch, perilously clutching the bucket of chicken, when she heard a noise.  It was something like a growl, something like a hiss, and altogether BAD NEWS.

Apparently, a possum had made its way onto their front porch and had somehow gotten its foot stuck in the boards that made up the porch.  Possum stuck = Angry Possum.  It was hissing and growling and really, really inconvenienced.

Now, possums aren't pretty on their best day, but this possum was MAD.  At this point, options were slim.  It was late, they were tired, they were hungry... oh wait.  They had the bucket of chicken with them.  Chicken legs in hand, they debated what to do.

Finally, it occurred to one of them that my brother-in-law D was inside.  They were outside, trapped by the possum, but... THEY HAD A CELL PHONE.

"Ring.  Ring. Ring."

B-in-L D answered.  "Yeah."  That's how he always answers the phone.

Sis S: "D, can you come outside for a minute?"

B-in-L D: "What the H!@*#$)(.  I was asleep.  What the #*%&)# do you need me to come outside for?"

Sis S: "D, just come out here."

So after much stumbling and grumbling, D wanders out, to be met by... Mad Possum.  

Possum had enough range of motion to turn around and hiss and growl at D, too.  Talented Possum.

I'm not totally sure of the exact order of events at this point.  I know that it involved a broomstick, some squealing and a LOT of cussing.  But B-in-L D managed to free the possum and Sis S and Niece K made it inside, safe and sound.  Just another night in redneck country...

No possums were harmed in the telling of this story.

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