The Clutch Family. Friends & co-workers. Nothing but good things to say about ‘em, except for the time T.Clutch tried to light up my pasture like the Fourth of July. Except it wasn't the Fourth of July.
On New Year’s eve, I talked to said family to make sure they got the ranch open okay. We were in Dallas, and they wanted to pop fireworks at our house. No big deal. We do it every year. Great. Sort of.The following morning my phone rings, and I see it’s T.Clutch calling me. I answer, “What’s happy about it?” Expected him to have said “Happy New Years!” Yes, happy new year’s, in a sort of twisted fiery-esque sort of way.
T.Clutch would be much better at telling this story, but since he has SO much to do being a boss and all, I thought I’d take the reigns here. Guess they only got to spark one firework, and I’m pretty sure it was the biggest firework they’d ever witnessed, so to speak. Oh the fire worked, alright….right from the little sparks warming up some grass, following it to the pond, and then torching into a bonfire! We’ll just say the story ends with a 911 call, some fire trucks, water, blisters, smoke inhalation, and a few acres of char. I think I’ll be putting something about fire safety in next week’s newspaper!