#259 Is it Cold Enough

260 Is it cold enough???

#260, Is it cold enough

#260 Is it Cold Enough

I was stupid enough to come to Chicago where it’s so cold; the zoo had to take its Polar Bear inside so it wouldn’t freeze. Like a fool, I thought I was immune. Now I’m paying for my mistake by hosting a viral disease called a cold and wishing I’d of been as smart as that Polar Bear. But when I struck a match, and the blue and orange flames danced at the end of my fingers, I forgot about the cold.

I lost myself and felt free at the sight of flames. When I saw the colors and smelled the fire scent, I got a tingling between my legs that

to get me set free. In the morning charges against me setting the river on fire, were read.

My lawyer said. “Your honor, under the constitution my client as a citizen has the right to light a fire to get warm.”

“Not a 156 mile long fire,” the prosecutor interjected.

“Look at the good the fire has done,” my lawyer said. “He’s burned many of the pollutants in our water and raised the temperature throughout the city. The polar bear has left the inside and is back outdoors at the zoo. My client should be commended instead of condemned by this tribunal.”

“If the bear is outside, I agree,” the judge said. “Your client should be set free and given a reward for what he did.”

Released and treated as a hero and given a key to the city, I went to visit the polar bear and watched as it swam in ice-cold water. What would happen to it if I dumped a bag of sodium and hydrogen peroxide into the water? I imagined the yellow flames and the felt so darn good, I could never replicate it. Firebug, pyromaniac, is what I’ve been called by those who couldn’t understand how good it felt when I lit a fire. In the past, I had no control and started fires whenever the urge hit me. As I got older, I decided to use my talent for financial gain, and let it be known in the right circles that if a business were failing or being investigated by the IRS that a fire started by me, could solve most problems. It wasn’t long before I had so many jobs I had to raise my price. I’ve done well and no longer need to work, but continue to ignite for fun.

This job I was about to do would be pro-bono. I wanted to accomplish what no other arsonist in history had, set the Chicago River on fire. There was no insurance on the river, but compensation would be a large wager that said it couldn’t be done. So instead of a fee, I bet a large sum it would burn.

Used as a dumping ground by all the manufacturing plants lining the river, it had been declared a fire hazard because of the large accumulation of magnesium, sodium, and calcium phosphide. I studied the composition of Greek fire and knew many of the ingredients were distributed throughout the river. All I needed was to ignite the river, and I’d win the bet.

Fire needed three things to burn: fuel, heat, and oxygen. I mixed some sodium and hydrogen peroxide together. The water would provide the oxygen when I dumped it into the river. It would burst into flame and ignite the entire 156 miles of flammable water.

At midnight, I parked on the Lake Street Bridge and dumped the load of chemicals into the river. Flames sprouted from the water and almost touched the bridge. Could the heat melt the metal bridge? I scurried to the river bank for a safer view of the flames.

It instantly warmed the air and for the first time in weeks, Chicago’s temperature rose above zero degrees. I felt a tingling between my legs like never before while I watched the flames rush up and down the river. Emergency vehicles soon lined the banks of the river. The more water they sprayed on the fire, the higher the flames rose.

The sight caused me to convulse with delight. A fire inspector familiar to the reactions of pyromaniacs observed me and had me arrested for arson. All I’d say was, “I want a lawyer.” Eventually, an attorney came to see me and promised white bear swimming in them. The tingling between my legs started, and I couldn’t stop myself. I had to see the white bear swimming in a sea of orange flames. I made a list of chemicals I’d need and returned that night. In the dark, the bear’s white fur against blue and orange flames would be most beautiful. Would I get an award for barbecuing a polar bear?



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