Fields of Gold: Deconstructing the Fire Escape/Spare Ribs

Eventually, long after the fire escape had proven it's uselessness, the decision was made to tear the bitch down, and ironically enough, set fire to it. This was done with what is known as a winch. The winch (or, Wench as we called it) was used for various tasks around the property, but this was by near and far the most epic of all, second only of course to the Indiana Jones-esque escape from a falling awning (which is, sadly a story for another day). We hooked up the wench to a nearby tree and my brother, herein referred to as "Monkey Boy", on account of his climbing abilities, hooked up the rope end of the wench to the fire escape and we were ready to go!

The original plan was to just have the fire escape get pulled off the wall and crash to the ground, where it would be promptly surrounded, doused in gasoline and set on fire, with the three of us dancing around it chanting tribal things. Anyone who's met a Fortune can attest to the fact things don't normally go our way

The fire escape creaked and cracked as the wench was torqued and the rope which was to be the escape's death warrant grew tighter. There was a moment of silence here we all thought the thing would pop off and murdefy (yes, I said murdefy) us, but no such thing happened. It was only when my father made one last repetition on the wench that the crazy wooden bitch on the wall started to break free. We all started cheering and high fiving each other, because we were certain the plan would go exactly as we had assumed. The fire escape fell, but not down. It was still attached to the wall at the end, so it kind of swung down and crashed through a window. Conveniently, my grandmother was on the otherside of the window playing Solitiare on the computer. The terror she must of felt when she decided to put the Jack of Clubs in with the King, only to find that, moments later, a Jack of Massive Freakin' Wood Contraptions was ramming its way into her home.

We all shouted cries of dismay at the general failure of our seemingly foolproof plan and rushed inside to see if everyone was okay. they were, score one for us. We broke the fucking window. Penalty, 5 points. We boarded up the window, and with the help of the wench, pulled the fire escape the rest of the way down. Mission: accomplished. Well, sort of. When all was said and done, there was still a bit of wood left up on the wall. It was one horizontal board with 4 or 5 others attached to it vertically. In a way, it vaguely resembled a ribcage.

It was then decided it should be forever referred to as "The Spare Ribs"


Caption #1 says "Vile bitch"
#2 says "Yellow Terror was here"
#3 says "A nearby tree"