First, let me state this: IT WAS NOT MY FAULT! All I did was light the fuse. My neighbor Bobby Martinez got the darn things. See, with the 4th of July coming up we were in Bubba Roy’s Bar a few weeks ago discussing the sad state of American fireworks. Besides the fact they are all made in China, American fireworks don’t have the firepower they had when we were kids. And even the fireworks we had as kids were nothing like in grandpa’s day. To hear grandpa tell it, they used to be able to remove stumps with a good, old fashioned M-80.

What happened is, a bunch of years ago some moron kids blowed their fingers and other various and sundry body parts off. Then the lawyers said we can’t have good fireworks no more. So now, we have to use these teeny, wimpy fireworks that will barely blow apart a beer can, never-mind turning a mailbox inside-out like in the good old days.

Well every year, we have a big ol’ 4th of July party here at the trailer park. We grill some hot dogs and blow up some fireworks and the party usually ends with Luke Fenwick getting arrested for public indecency.

Well this year, Bobby says his cousin lives down in Brownsville, Texas. Brownsville is right on the border and his cousin can head on over to Matamoros, Mexico and get us some REAL fireworks.

See, the Mexican government don’t worry that some bonehead blew off a few digits. They still sell fireworks that have some punch. Anyhow, Bobby came over last night with a bag of fireworks he got from his cousin. There were big ol’ firecrackers and a couple of rockets that could take out a SCUD missle. Gotta love a border town. You can get anything. Anything.

Well, we decided to try one of those big rockets. Bobby gets this piece of PVC pipe and wedges it between two concrete blocks. Well, we put the rocket in the pipe and I light the fuse and we run away, just like you’re supposed to do. Well, the pipe fell over right as he fuse lit the rocket.

You folks need to understand at this point that I told Bobby to make sure it was in there good and tight. Anyhow, the thing goes off with big SHOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHHHH and heads right for Stan and Erma Scrimshaw’s trailer.

Now let me just say that I have told Stan for years he needed to go ahead and install that flashing around the bottom of his trailer. Not only does it look nicer, but maybe…just maybe, it would have diverted the rocket. I have also told Stan to not store gasoline in old plastic milk jugs under his trailer. But Stan is what we call in the trailer park “dumb as a box of hair”. He is also ugly as an armpit, but I don’t want to get personal.

Any how it the rocket hits one of Stan’s gas filled milk jugs right under the back end of his trailer and blows up. The explosion took off the back wall of the trailer and took out all the cinder blocks supporting the trailer on that side.

Now this next part I can’t take any blame for. Had Erma not been in that part of the trailer, I don’t think it would have tumped over. But, Erma is not a small woman. As a matter of fact, Stan had to put double doors on the trailer for Erma to get in and out.

So the trailer tumps over like a teeter-totter with one fat kid on it and Erma and Stan come rolling out the trailer and land on the ground with a look on their face like those people on Cheaters when they get busted by their wife, an entire camera crew, and that guy that looks like a cocaine dealer.

By this time, Bobby and me have done run off and hid in my trailer. Well, when the deputies show up, we did the right thing and told them some kids did it and run off. So the lesson is: Don’t let Bobby near the fireworks and don’ store gasoline in plastic milk jugs. Also, put flashing around your trailer.