The Snow Brigade Takes on the Heated Driveway Fortress
A thick cloud of white specs began falling from the grey sky. “Alright!” the gruff sergeant bellowed. “Listen up you bunch of snowflakes! We’ve got a job to do and we’re gonna do it!” Sergeant Burr studied the troops as they fell slowly from the sky. “Our mission is to harass those two-legged monstrosities down there and bring their travel plans to a halt. Got that? We are to secure the driveway and keep them confined to their house. Make all exit points dangerous and impassible. We will impede all manner of travel, whether it’s by foot or vehicle. Do you understand?”
“Sir, yes sir!” the group yelled in unison.
“Alright then, when you land on that driveway tighten up your ranks and hold your ground. I’ll be taking the high ground on the wintergreen daisies right next to you to supervise the operation. I’ll be there, fighting alongside you.”
“Um Sergeant Burr, sir?” one timid private stepped forward.
“What’s on your mind, son?” the agitated sergeant asked.
“Uh, yes sir, I uh, I heard that some of these places are installing heated driveways that pretty much vaporize entire battalions of snowflakes like us. How do we know they don’t have any weapons of mass melting down there?”
“Because our intel reports didn’t say anything about radiant heat!” the sergeant yelled. “Now enough with those crazy thoughts. Look down there! That looks like any other driveway and sidewalk,” he insisted. “We’re going to use the element of surprise and bury ‘em before they can yell ‘Grandma busted her hip’. Got that?”
“Um, yes sir,” the snowflake sheepishly resigned before slipping back into rank.
“Dude,” the soldier next to him muttered. “Ya just gotta think positive man. Like, imagine the driveway down there is totally cold and frozen, man. He’s just a frigid freak waiting for us icy dudes to drift on down and cover him up. Positive thinking man, positive thinking. Believe it will be ice cold and it will be ice cold.”
“Uh yeah, sure,” the private said with a raised eyebrow, while distancing himself from the soldier.
“The rest of you snowflakes,” Sergeant Burr continued, “stop worrying about some super radiant heat monster and focus on your assignments. The first wave is to cover the surface and link up. Provide a thin sheet of ice so the next waves can pile on top to hide you. You’ll be the tip of the spear; the secret slick surface that will bring down any of those two-legged mammals who dare to step outside.”
“What about the four-legged ones?” a soldier asked.
“We don’t care about them. They don’t have as far to go when they drop. It’s those bipedal ones that are a lot more fun to watch when they slip and go down,” the sergeant said with a devilish grin. “Now let’s go down there and have some fun.”
The group descended closer and closer to the ground. The brown lawns and leafless trees were beginning to be overcome by the white army, but the driveway remained defiant.
“Man, I don’t like the looks of this,” the timid private said to another.
“Yeah,” came the reply. “That doesn’t look right.”
“No talking in the ranks!” the sergeant howled. “Okay, first wave, hit the ground! Go, go, go!”
The blanket of snowflakes hit the concrete, but shrieks and screams filled the air. The snowflakes were gone. They disappeared. One after another the snowflakes hit the pavement before letting out a yelp and trickling away. The snow was disarmed and turned into little droplets that drained away from the driveway.
The timid private was now nothing more than a small drop of water. He nudged the droplet next to him. “Positive thinking, aye? Just think it will be ice cold and it will be ice cold, aye? Pfft. Positive thinking, my lilly white icicle!”
“Uh yeah man. Total bummer,” came the reply.
But some of the first snowflakes to hit didn’t even make it to the water stage. Like the private said, the snowflakes were vaporized, where they drifted slowly back up to the sky.
“C’mon!” the stubborn sergeant hollered. “Waves two and three. Hit ‘em hard!”
But with each company of snowflakes the results were the same. The icy soldiers were nullified the second they hit the ground.
“Sarge!” a platoon leader yelled. “We can’t break through. It’s too hot down there. The driveway is fortified with radiant heat! We don’t stand a chance.”
But Sergeant Burr was defiant – and increasingly desperate. “We . . . we gotta. C’mon,” he stammered. “Everybody, we need a full frontal assault. We’ll overwhelm the driveway with sheer numbers!”
“That’s an order,” the sergeant screamed. “Everyone to the driveway! It’s our only chance.” He called for reinforcements.
Snowflake after snowflake hit the ground, but no one could establish a foothold. It was impossible. Even when reinforcements that doubled the size of the assault force arrived, they could make no headway. Snow piled up on the ground next to the driveway, but the troops on the lawn could only watch as their comrades fell to their doom.
“It’s a massacre,” one noted.
Still the sergeant continued to bark his attack orders.
“That dude’s a lunatic,” one snowflake remarked as he watched the sergeant. “There’s nothing you can do against a heated driveway. It’s hopeless.”
“Yeah,” his companion agreed. “I reckon his brain is melting. Poor Sarge has gone bananas.”
“I’m glad we landed here on the grass. Those heated driveways are murder on snow.”
The battle raged for over two hours, but when the final troops descended from the sky the driveway and front sidewalk were completely dry. There was no trace of a battle. Over a foot of snow buried the surrounding landscape, but the pavement remained clear. Sergeant Burr hugged his knees and rocked back and forth. His eyes stared blankly ahead as he repeatedly muttered, “It’s a heated driveway. The driveway was heated. It’s a heated driveway . . . ”
The soldiers tried to console him, but it was hopeless.
“C’mon Sarge,” the medics lifted him onto a stretcher. “It’s all over now.”