Fierce Gardening, Round 2

If you tell three men you have a strange creature in your back yard, two will want to kill it, and one will want to season it.

Portions of conversations:

"You can't discharge a firearm in the City."
"I have heard that you can make a silencer out of a two liter plastic bottle."
"Maybe it's a nutria and it escaped from the Erie County Fair."
"You are supposed to put the smoke bomb in a hole, not under anything."
"What's a nutria?"
"A bb gun won't kill it. "
"A bb gun won't kill it."
"Won't keep it away, either. Woodchucks are kind of dumb."
"And shy."
"And mean."

Bill suggested that I season the backyard with chili powder, that no mammal can really stand much of the stuff.

"But what if he likes it," I ask. And suddenly there it was, the image that will forever haunt me every Groundhog's Day: A group of woodchucks gathered under miniature party lights in the backyard dressed up like little Clint Eastwoods as Blondie, chewing on cayenne seasoned astor leaves and smoking rolled peppered cosmos, looking dumb, shy, and mean.

I am just going to shoot myself, instead.