Today I am featuring a guest post from my good friend Dan Gordon.
I hope to have guests write on here from time to time about things they are afraid of so that we can all join together to hug and cry.
I’m Afraid of Scorpions
Written by Dan Gordon
Artistic Direction by Dan Gordon
Illustrated by Tabitha Parker
I am horribly afraid of scorpions. This is NOT an irrational fear. Here’s the thing, there are a number of animals that are pretty terrible, but they are all parts of nature, god’s creations, the children of Mother Earth.
Spiders? Yeah, a little frightening at times. A little creepy, no doubt. But they are just part of the world. Snakes? I had a snake once. It was a real son of a bitch. It wouldn’t stop biting me, but that never deterred me from picking it up repeatedly.
But snakes, regardless of venom glands, are just dicks. Sharks? I’m going on record right now to say that the Great White Shark should not exist. That is not an opinion, it is a fact of Science – or at least it is if Science made any sense. Bus-sized predators should no longer roam the earth or seas. But that is a rant for another article.
Scorpions are not of this Earth, as they hail straight from the depths of hell. I cannot imagine a good and loving God creating this hell spawn for any other reason than to terrorize the human race. In the biblical era, God sent an Angel of Death to Sodom and Gomorrah to create a firestorm to destroy all who live within.
Now, the Big Man has learned to be a bit more subtle: Scorpions. Let’s take a look at the ingredients of this adorable little death cookie.
Time for a little honesty. I wasn’t always terrified of scorpions…as sometimes we are foolish when we are young. When I was 21 I was working as a counselor at a summer camp for children with cancer. The camp ground was located on a nature preserve in South Florida.
Keep in mind, South Florida is known for alligators, cotton mouth snakes, killer bees, fire ants, and sharks. Noticeably missing from that list is the Florida Scorpion.
I was getting the kids settled in for the night and was about to start getting dressed for bed. I sat down on my bunk, and leaned back against the wall. There, on a small ledge NEAR MY HEAD, was the largest Scorpion to ever rise from the depths of Hades.
I obviously did not have time to measure, but I think a conservative estimate for its size was about 4 feet long, 3 feet wide, a tail 7 feet long, and weighed about 300 lbs.
After jumping up and releasing a stream of “fucks” (one might say, a fuckstream), I did the bravest, most responsible thing I could think of; I yelled for help from the Counselor in Training, who was attending the camp during a break between chemo treatments (he continues to hold the #1 spot on my “heroes” list).
With his help, I placed a dustpan beneath the ledge, and we used a broomstick to zero in on the demon. Together, we held the broomstick and slowly aimed the tip toward its body. The clearly-not-phased arachnid-embodiment of Danny Trejo stood its ground. It stared us in the eye like….some kind of staring ghost felon. Use your imagination.
My cancer-stricken companion looked me in the eye, sending the unmistakable message of, “I have been fighting a deadly disease for months. I thought I had already encountered the worst horrors of this life.” He was wrong. So, so wrong. We held the broom even tighter. We counted to three.
One. Our hearts thumped violently against our rib cage. Two. We pulled the stick back like Vikings manning a battering ram. Three! We thrust the stick straight into the thorax of the rape monster!
It fucking screamed! No joke, it audibly released a spine-chilling sound made of hate and anger. Then it used its death whip to sting the broom stick several times before plopping onto the dustpan.
With the beast still struggling, I grabbed the dustpan and brought it outside. The whole way out the door, I let out a high-pitched, not-effeminate-at-all, very masculine, war cry (emphasis on “cry”). You know, like a man.
I dropped the scorpion on the ground, and BRAVELY stomped on it with my high-top Reeboks. The fucker stung my shoe! And as its life faded away, and I turned to walk back into the cabin, I swear I heard with its last breath – a quiet whisper, “Next time, Jew.”
I returned to the cabin (in my amazingly not-soiled shorts) a hero. May there never again be such a clash between good and evil. Just to be sure this never again occurs, I have a proposal. Genocide. Scorpion genocide. Never before has the thought of genocide seemed not extreme enough.
I’m glad I could spread the word.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dan Gordon is an improviser/comedian in Chicago, Illinois.
He is still a hero.