Thursday, March 3, 2005

To kill a rooster

It's the year of the rooster here in Chaiwan and it's already scratching me the wrong way. I don't know if it's an automatic celestial manifestation or if one of my neighbors just bought this year's lucky animal -- either way, my newest new year's neighbor is a rooster. And he's as annoying as any cartoon rooster I've ever seen. Only problem is, I haven't seen him. But I hear him. Almost every morning. At about 6 AM. And then about 7 AM. And then again about 8 AM. Fortunately, he generally shuts his beak by 9 AM -- that is to say, only once I'm safely and groggily out the door. His work is done. Mine's just beginning.

But I've decided he's working too hard. I'm the fidgety neighborhood mob-boss and he's most unwelcome awn my toif. So I've decided to whack him. To bury him. To put a cap in his beak. To fit him with cement claws. ("I want him dead, I want him DEAD!" screamed Don Ellione as he pummeled his inept lieutenants with a fried drumstick.) This is a cathartic freedom Chaiwan affords me with unlike anywhere in the USA (short of a stint on a farm).

So far, my mornings have been spent dredging my way up to consciousness, dimly working recon on his location. It's been raining for the past few days, which muffles his voice, so I haven't too many good chances to get a clear idea of his position. (Maybe _Ghost Wars_ is going to my head, eh? Operation Rooftop Talon? Operation Early Riser? Operation Beak of Justice?) In order of preference (my preference for taking the shot, I mean), he's either in the alley perpendicular to my window, in a neighbor's apartment in the adjacent building, or on the roof of the same opposing building. The alley would be worst because that shelters the noisy bird behind a carpenter's shop laced with razor wire. And as we all know, razor wire often slows discourages securing a shooting perch. An adjacent shot would also be undesirable, what with windows and innocent civilians to avoid. The roof would be ideal, not only because that leaves my enemy wide open, but also because, hey, we all know all the good urban sniping happens on a roof.

After some deliberation, I picked up an air soft assault BB-rifle this evening and did a starlit black bag job of sorts. I think I spotted a roost across the way in the northeast corner. It was wide open and might be my ticket, except that a domesticated rooster is a much hotter target. I'll see if I can rouse my self to scamper upstairs in time to get a good bead on him tomorrow morning.

But even if I drowse my shot away, I've got time. Going naked, I'm willing to take my time. The last thing I need is to be blown or rolled-up by a horde of squawking poultry, or Taiwanese.

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