He sat on the porch pondering the problem over a few brews. As an interim solution, he poured a five-gallon jug of gasoline down the hole, then drank more beer and watched the sun set. What was the likelihood that the mission was accomplished? An hour later he decided to err on the side of caution and burn them out.
He lit a match and tossed it at the hole. Boom, and I mean KABOOM. Hair on arms? Gone! Eyebrows? Gone! Walkway? Cracked, and a six-foot crater where the wasp nest had been. As he stood there burnt and smoking, beer in hand, wife shrieking in the background, he knew he had won...the Dumb Ass Award.
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Reference: Personal Account, Bobby Sutton