It was a beautiful day. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and children played safely in their back yards as their parents smiled, watching them as they planned dinner.
One family, however, was not quite so happy.
He had read the owner's manual for the Weber Smokey Mountain smoker that he now stood tentatively before.
In extreme duress, he found himself holding his breath and glancing around in paranoia. He was a brave man, but found himself shaken to his very core from uncontrollable fear, terror even!
Desperately, he willed himself to calm down. The warnings were clear, and he had clearly survived this long. Everything would be fine, he assured himself. Just remember the rules as outlined in the manual.
"WARNING: Do not spill any water into the hot coals. This can cause steam and ash to rise and could cause serious bodily injury or death." Page 6, section 3.
He gulped apprehensively, but slowly lifted his water pitcher over the beautiful instrument that held his very fate in its cold, icy, - no wait, its hot fiery belly.
Would the beast before him serve the most tender, delicious, life-giving gift of pure unadulterated ecstacy?
Or would this unbearably tense game of Russian Roulette be the last thing he ever did?
As hard as he tried to concentrate on the delicate task before him, he couldn't help but think of his wife and young child pleading with him just moments ago... "let's just go to Burger King, where it's safe?!"
The tears rolling down their faces wouldn't convince him - he had tasted the succulent meat from this 'tree of knowledge and truth' the wispy smoke of which was now intoxicating him.
No. He wouldn't go back. He COULDN'T go back! He knew the risks, he had read the owner's guide that came with his indentured servitude...
Time had all but stopped as he reflected carefully on his master's previous warnings.
"Never use charcoal impregnated with charcoal lighter fluid." Also on page 6, in bold and emphasized twice on the page.
HA! Who would do THAT anyway?
Shaking his head, he continued to slowly lift the pitcher of water over his Weber Smokey Mountain smoker.
Was there anything he had forgotten?
Paging through the owner's guide one more time in his head (he had memorized it for the sake of his family's well-being), he drilled himself as the four dark uncaring eyes of his fully opened top vent stared menacingly from the patio table he had set it upon, right into his very soul, of which it knew it owned at this point.
"WARNING: always use protective mitts or gloves to protect hands and forearms. Failure to follow this warning may result in serious bodily injury or death." Page 7.
Check.
"Do not use indoors! This smoker is designed for outdoor use only. If used indoors, toxic fumes will accumulate and cause serious bodily injury or death." Page 1.
Check.
"Combustion by-products produced when using this product contain chemicals known to the state of California to cause cancer, birth defects, or other reproductive harm." Also on page 1.
None of that mattered anymore. He had crossed that bridge long ago.
Gingerly, he finished tipping the pitcher over the water pan. As the clear water, glistening in the sun, streamed downward, he knew he was practically clear of life endangering threats.
Half the water was safely in the pan.
His thoughts wandered to the Weber Kettle Club. He was one of them - the brave men who faced certain death over, and over, and over again!
There hadn't been many WSMs on Craigslist lately. A sure sign that the mortality rate was declining. Surely more people are wearing mitts and using normal briquettes. A satisfied smile crept across his lips.
Unfortunately, it was the LAST time he would ever be seen smiling.
That was when it happened. Lost in thought for a mere second, his concentration had broken.
A single drip of water strayed from his pitcher as he was nearly done pouring.
All time and space suddenly slowed as his eyes widened and he tried to utter his final words in utter disbelief.
But he was robbed of that. The most he could do was mouth a single, excruciating, desperate objection, "NOOOOOoooooo!" as his cruel black porcelain enameled master seemed to grow in stature, towering what seemed like 22.5 feet above him and leaning over with a scowl of evil hatred. A cruel reminder was due him; the price for his complacency was "bodily injury, death."
All of nature held its breath and watched in horror.
The stray water drop struck the hot embers, and with a sickening sizzle, transformed into a gaseous state and mercilessly murdered him in front of his own disbelieving family.
The Weber company had warned him.
Will you be next?
Topic: A Cautionary Tale (Read 3257 times)
