Around 11 pm tonight, Nitram and I were on the porch.
Then we both start sniffing the air.
Nitram: I smell something.
Me: Me too.
Nitram: Smells like…
Me: I dunno…
Me: What the fuck, you don’t even like popcorn. How would you know.
Nitram: It smells like popcorn.
Me: It smells like meat.
Nitram: You don’t even eat meat, how would YOU know.
Me: I swear, it smells like when you put ground beef in the oven and let it… simmer, or something.
Nitram: Who puts ground beef in the oven?
Me: Not me.
Nitram: *smallish burp* (“smallish” meaning a rather large burp for a normal human)
Nitram: *larger burp* (“larger” meaning a real whopper for a normal human)
Nitram: *BURRRRP* (bounces off the neighbor’s house, not kidding)
Transformer, in the neighborhood behind us: *mmmMMMMMMmmmmMMMMMMMgak–*
We look at each other, me with one eyebrow raised, him with two because he could never get how to do that.
Me: Was that you…?
Me: Yeah, but… that burp.
Me: Hey — oh, look over there.
(The neighborhood behind us is totally dark.)
Me: Your fault.
Later, I thought I had it figured out. The meat smell (it WAS meat, not popcorn (popcorn?? WTF)) was a raccoon or possum going up the pole, then… zzzzzzzt. Fried possum, no electricity.
Either that, or the burp.