When I was a senior in college, my two friends and I were looking for a house to live in for the year. We had waited until last minute, so we assumed that the pickings would be slim. However, we ended up getting very lucky. We found a large, 5 bedroom house right in the center of downtown Fredonia. The landlord charged on a per-person basis, and they usually rented the house to a minimum of 4 students per semester. But, because it was last minute, they agreed to give it to the 3 of us. We were ecstatic for a bunch of different reasons. For one, the house had a ton of space to have parties if we wanted to. Also, since it was in the center of downtown Fredonia, it was right next door to all of the downtown bars. During the week I was very into my school work, but on the weekends I enjoyed going out.
Anyways, I was leaving the house one evening when I seen a skank through the window in the door. (Oh yeah, I should probably mention the fact that I have always referred to skunks as "skanks". I have a nickname for everybody) We always kept our garbage can just outside the front door, and he was apparently very interested in it. It was impossible for me to leave the house because he was right in the way. We had a back door, but we had never used it once. The backdoor was in the cluttered basement and it led to an extremely dark backyard. I considered this for only a moment, since I already knew there were skanks out, so I quickly ruled out that option. The backyard was a wooded area, which was probably where the skanks lived. I didn't want to run into another skank or the one on the porch if he ended up fleeing.
It didn't matter, I wasn't going to go out the back because of some stupid skank! It was time for him to take his stank-ass someplace else. I wasn't going to lose to a skank, he was the one who was in the wrong here. It didn't matter how powerful his stench could be, there is no way he was going to beat me. I paid a lot of money to live there, he was going to be the one to leave. And it was going to be his choice whether we were going to do this the easy way or the hard way.
I began to tap on the door to try to startle him to run off. For some reason, this was not working. And so I tried flickering the outside light and rapping on the door even harder, but it didn't work. I tried this for a good 15 minutes or so. I always thought that skanks were easy to scare away. This was not the case. I wanted him to leave, but I really didn't want him to spray. I opened up the door just a crack and hollered at him gently. "Pssst, get out skank". I tried to reason with him in a man-to-skank method. I tried to talk to him in a reasonable method. "Please Mr. Skank! I have places to go"! I closed the door and kept flickering the light and banging on the door. But he just would not leave!
After about 20 minutes of this, I gave up. I had become infuriated and I no longer feared the wrath of his powerful spray. We were going to do this the hard way, he had asked for it. I quickly scoured our house for a weapon that I could use without getting too close to him. I finally decided upon a claw hammer. I told my roommate Kevin to open the door, and I was going to throw the hammer at him from about 3 feet away. Then, Kevin was going to quickly close the door. We had a small coat room and a double door, so we would close that one too. I knew that he would definitely spray, but I assumed that the double doors would be plenty to shield us. At this point I just didn't care, it was far more important to me that I inflict pain on the skank. I did not fear some stupid little skank, he needed to pay!
And so we went on with our plan. Kevin opened the door just enough, and I threw the hammer at him as hard as I could! I heard a loud "Thud" coupled with a very small "yelp" the skank had let out. It was a very rare animal sound, I had no idea that skanks even made a noise. It was a direct hit, and I'm sure that it had hurt him very badly. But, I can assure you that I felt absolutely zero remorse. We quickly closed the door, and then the double door. But it didn't help one bit. The stench was so powerful that I can smell it all the way in the back of my brain, even now as I reflect back on it. In just moments we were all the way in the back of the house holding our noses. We could see a large group of people outside through a side window, they were all running and screaming while holding their noses. It is impossible to describe the strength of the stench in its rawest form, but we had to leave. It was simply overwhelming. We ended up going down into the basement and fleeing from our own house.
We went to Walmart because we knew that we needed to get something for the front door. We were positive that the front door had taken a direct spray. We had no idea what to buy. All we knew for sure, was that we couldn't splash tomato juice all over the front of our house. Tomato juice was the only anti-skank repellent that we were aware of. I knew that it was all my fault, and so that it was going to be my responsibility to remedy the situation. I ended up buying a large jug of powdered bleach. When we got home it still smelled like absolute skank-ass. I splashed a bucket of water on the door and then through a large amount on powder bleach on it. I left it there for a few hours and then repeated. Our whole house stunk really bad for a few days. We ended up having to wash all of our clothes and the door smelled like skank residue for the better part of the semester.
It sucked. But, I am willing to bet that the skank ended up having far worse repercussions from the incident. And that, my friends, is called "winning"! We never had any skank problems ever again. This leads me to believe that he probably told his friends about me. And when he did, I hope that he referred to me as "an enforcer" who does not fear their kind one bit.
I thought about it a while later, and I still felt no remorse. That skank was sniffing around my garbage like his shit didn't stink. Wait, let me re-phrase that, he was strolling around our garbage like his shit did stink. In fact, thought that his shit stunk so bad that he was invincible. This, however, was not the case. While his shit did in deed smell far worse than a burning tire, it does not make him invincible.
I have often heard the old phrase; "Sometimes you have to crack some eggs to make an omelet". Well, I have a new quote to live by; "Sometimes you have to smell some shit to get rid of the poop".
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(I wrote this story, and then 2 days later I recorded this video)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWPYeBUPlNk
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