Enter Evan, 34, Pinky, 22, and their 58-year-old mom, Mitzi. If the Olympics makes a medal event in Near Death Experience, these three will clean up. Their favorite warm-weather activity is water skiing, especially after the consumption of two or three drinks with paper umbrellas.
The lack of a tow rope vexed the colorful trio until one child of Bacchus recruited the others to execute a plan to MAKE TOW ROPE so they could go skiing. The ingredients for this makeshift replacement were deep sea fishing line, the patience to braid fifty yards of doom in the making, and a handle to affix to the rope. Mitzi's always up for sacrificing her bikini top for a good cause, so that was the tow rope handle.
It was like watching a train wreck unfold. The boat engine revved, Mitzi jumped in, Evan was at the wheel. Twenty-two year old Pinky put on the waterskis, bobbed into position, and shouted, "Hit it!" The boat reached warp nine before the braided line suffered what NASA would call a catastrophic failure, snapping in half somewhere along its length, coming apart at the bikini handle, the hitch, and Posiedon only knows where else.
Out-of-control Pinky was sent flying over a low boat ramp and into the open hold of a fishing boat. A highly irate Mexican fishermen threw him and his skis back overboard. Mitzi got spanked with fishing line lashes across her back, and Evan narrowly missed plowing into a tourist boat due to the combination of excess speed and sudden loss of drag.
Turns out, tickets for "disturbing the peace" and "public drunkenness" add up to $130 in fines and a good scolding from the judge, who pointed out the obvious at length: This could have been tragic, Pinky could have broken his neck, and Evan could have sunk a tourist boat that was chock-full of little kids.
As for me, this year I'm gonna stay home and shovel the driveway.
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Reference: personal account by bIrqul