Sticking To It

Argh. A grim start to the day today. Some dodgy ships landed about five miles away from the bar. They didn’t stop for a drink, and let a dozen parnsipheads out across the fields.

The twelve went straight for the traps of course, so it’s no biggie. Grandmother taught me how to set them. They are unpleasant, but effective.

Source a giant pot of adhesive. It doesnt have to be a super strong industrial binding agent. PVA will do. Mix in fresh grass trimmings, the fresher the better. Enough that the smell of shredded plants overpowers the solvent. Whack the mixture into a series of old paint cans, and leave them at tactical points across your property.  You’ve just made a parsniphead buffet.

That fresh lawn aroma will drawn them straight over. Soon their faces will look like the victims of a custard pie fight.

If you’ve mixed your solution properly, they will keep drinking. The adhesive will begin to set. You might have a few that manage to pull their heads out, but it’s far too late by that point. The next morning you can dispatch them with a quick blow. Problem solved. But messy.

During the clean-up I thought about when we had to defend this place. Thanks to its location, some have attempted a takeover bid. Gangsters, small militias, political groups. We even hired private security at one point.

My grandmother was never too worried. By the time the Haircut kicked off she was a hardy pioneer of the galaxy. She survived freezing winters on dwindling supplies with her own intuition for company. Soon traps hid in the landscape. Our famers carried explosives. Plus the regular patrons didn’t want to see service interrupted. They balked at rising costs or the threat of protection money. Pirates and usurpers soon knew to leave us alone.  These days we never get more than a bar fight, or a scrap about landing spots.

I wonder what I would do if someone tried to take over again? We may have to rely on more than paint cans.

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