They really should have been celebrated as heroes. After all, following a hunt lasting several days, the three of them had managed to catch the Superskunk. They had surrounded him in the middle of the market square, and John – who is also the goalkeeper for the civil service football club – managed to grab him with both hands after a diving catch, whereupon the other two rushed over and snapped on the specially made handcuffs.
But it’s too late: the skunk has already managed to spray its secretion – now fully recharged – in a huge jet. A loud, unanimous cry of horror rings out from the crowd of onlookers, who are watching the capture from a great distance, and they scatter in a panic. So the three of them – who now stink to high heaven despite their protective suits – hurry to finish the job and take the skunk to the zoo. The director receives them there, wrapped in a double full-body protective suit, and instructs them from a distance of 50 metres to return the animal to the skunk enclosure.
Then the unthinkable happens: as he opens the cage, John stumbles over the captive skunk, and all 132 skunks in the zoo use the fallen man, so to speak, as a springboard to freedom!
The news spreads like wildfire through the town. The odour disaster has struck! Acidic clouds of stench are sweeping through the neighbourhoods. It’s not just the elderly ladies from Daigg who are reduced to asthmatic fits of sobbing. At the town hall, politicians are scrambling to implement emergency measures, whilst the opposition parties, as usual, are constantly sabotaging one another. Finally, the sirens wail and the townspeople stumble desperately towards the air-raid shelters.
Our three heroes, on the other hand, now stink to the core. No shower in the world will ever be able to help them, no one will ever go near them again, and no air-raid shelter will ever take them in! The only thing left for them to do is to stagger through the deserted streets, hooting and hollering, and tap beer in the deserted pubs until the very last barrel is empty.
© Chandra Mäder
This website uses cookies.