Bumpkin's Favorite Actors

Bumpkin plays favorites.

As I feared she would, Bumpkin has forced me to order digital cable.  She made me join Netflix too.  At least she's paying for it.  All she needs to do is use her superpowers to extract money from wallets and purses of my neighbors or people passing by.  Then the money floats toward my apartment building, and ultimately slips under my front door.  It's easy as pie for her to do that. 
Bumpkin has really been catching up on many of the movies and TV shows she missed before she became aware of the boob tube.  As she hibernates/plans to take over the world from humans, she watches plenty of TV.  She likes a lot of actors: Daniel Day-Lewis, Robert De Niro, Robert Duvall, Mickey Rourke, Billy Bob Thornton, Sam Rockwell, Walton Goggins, Timothy Olyphant, Jeremy Davies, Alec Baldwin, Sean Penn, Kal Penn, Ryan Reynolds, Simon Pegg, James Woods, Dennis Quaid, Denzel Washington, Matt Dillon, Martin Short, Steve Martin, Chevy Chase, Bill Murray, Rodney Dangerfield, Ted Knight, Nicolas Cage, Tom Hanks, Russel Crowe, Robert Downey Jr., Kirk Douglas, Steve McQueen, Mel Gibson, Jason Statham, Ben Stiller, Owen Wilson, Kevin Costner, Patrick Swayze, Burt Reynolds, Jon Voight, Ed Harris, Viggo Mortensen, Gary Oldman, James Franco, Willem Dafoe, Tom Berenger, Jake Gyllenhaal, Heath Ledger, Jerry Seinfeld, Larry David, Jason Alexander, Daniel J. Travanti, Dennis Franz, Michael Conrad, Bruce Weitz, James Sikking, Charles Haid, Michael Warren, Taurean Blacque, Kiel Martin, Rene Enriquez, Ken Olin, Jeffrey Tambor, Al Pacino, John Cusack, Ryan Phillippe, Jude Law, Justin Long, Michael Keaton, Woody Allen, Woody Harrelson, Adam West, William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, Leonardo Dicaprio, Alec Guinness, Andy Lau, Armin Mueller-Stahl, Aidan Quinn, Anthony Quinn, Gabriel Byrne, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Gene Hackman, Bruce Campbell, Bruce Lee, Bill Paxton, Roy Scheider, C. Thomas Howell, John Ritter, Clint Eastwood, Lee Majors, Jim Carrey, Alan Alda, Ray Liotta, Joe Pesci, Mr. T, Nick Nolte, James Coburn, Burgess Meredith, John Lithgow, Anthony Perkins, Paul Newman, Eric Roberts, and David Caruso.
She likes actors based on acting ability, funniness, and charisma.  When it comes to actresses, she likes very talented ones (Meryl Streep, Faye Dunaway), ones that are talented and especially pretty (Angela Bassett, Reese Witherspoon, Veronica Hamel), ones that are funny and very pretty (Tina Fey, Kristen Wiig, Jennifer Aniston), but mostly ones that are "cute" (Elizabeth Banks, Eva Mendes, Salma Hayek, Kate Hudson, Charlize Theron, Jennifer Garner, Sandra Bullock, Alicia Silverstone, Alyson Hannigan, Amy Adams, Suzanne Somers, Alicia Witt, Angelina Jolie, Anne Hathaway, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Ashley Judd).
Amazing.  I agree with all of the above!

Bumpkin Loves Metal

The only groundhog metal fan I know of: Bumpkin.

Ever since I played a CD in my home, while Bumpkin was present, she has been a huge fan of music.  She likes many of the same sorts of music I do.  She's a very open-minded music fan who wants to make up for all the lost time: when she was blissfully unaware of the virtues of music.  I'm a nut about my CDs.  I love them, so I handle them very carefully.  I only handle them with clean hands.  People have asked to borrow my CDs, I have a lot of them at this point, and I always wince: whether outwardly, inwardly, or both.  After all, I've taken out plenty of DVDs from the library, and I've seen how badly the discs get all scratched up by people who obviously don't handle discs as carefully as I do.  That's not a problem with Bumpkin though.  She has played many of my CDs, but she has not touched any of them with any part of her body.  She simply uses her superpowers to open the closet doors, slide out the drawers, levitate the selected discs, and put them into and out of the CD player.
It's only natural that Bumpkin likes a lot of what I do.  She's hears my stuff, she's a very recent and very enthusiastic fan of music, so she likes almost everything: including "Call Me Maybe."  I'm not sure if it's called that, but that's in the chorus: big hit.  Sloopy and Lucinda like it too.  I have to admit I like any song that gets all 3 of my groundhog house guests onto the dance floor.  Lucinda can really shake that big butt of hers.
"I like a lot of different sorts of music," said Bumpkin, "but metal is clearly the most superior kind of music I've ever heard.  The energy, the power, and the glory add up to something that other types of music can't compete with.  My favorite band is Kreator; they are off the hook!" 
So far, Bumpkin likes Deep Purple, Prince, Van Halen, Led Zeppelin, The Doors, The Who, Solitude Aeturnus, Tad Morose, The Clash, The Sex Pistols, Mercenary, Rage, Rage Against the Machine, Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix, Neil Young, Asia, Samson, Bruce Dickinson, Bruce Springsteen, Bruce Hornsby, The Grateful Dead, Helloween, Soilwork, In Flames, Arch Enemy, Mercyful Fate, Overkill, Hirax, Metallica, Iron Maiden, Slayer, Sarah McLachlan, Heart, The Police, Sting, Queensryche, Black Sabbath, Megadeth, Fates Warning, Metal Church, Colbie Caillat, 3 Inches of Blood, Hall & Oates, George Michael, George Thorogood, The Allman Brothers Band, No Doubt, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Foreigner, Journey, Kenny Loggins, Yes, ELO, Kansas, Boston, The Scorpions, Culture Club, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Robert Cray, BB King, Derek and the Dominos, Cream, Tribuzy, Sepultura, Vader, Thin Lizzy, Armored Saint, Carcass, Entombed, Phil Collins, Genesis, Down, Pantera, The Dixie Chicks, T'Pau, Bad Company, Styx, Annihilator, Exodus, Fleetwood Mac, Blondie, Talking Heads, New Order, Creed, Harem Scarem, Riot, Budgie, The Fray, Snow Patrol, The White Stripes, The Black Keys, The Shins, Wilco, UFO, The Cult, Coldplay, Keane, The Pixies, Helmet, System of a Down, Mastodon, Soundgarden, Blue Oyster Cult, The Band, Robbie Robertson, Switchfoot, Paramore, Immortal, Spineshank, Bloodbath, Nevermore, Queens of the Stone Age, Foo Fighters, Pet Shop Boys, Roxette, Def Leppard, Whitesnake, Queen, R.E.M., Acid Bath, Today Is the Day, MGMT, U2, Soul Asylum, Dark Tranquillity, Candlemass, The Killers, Duran Duran, Dio, Judas Priest, Cryptopsy, Vehemence, Rainbow, Rush, Nirvana, The Cranberries, Lamb of God, King Diamond, Suicidal Tendencies, Willie Nelson, 10,000 Maniacs, Jane's Addiction, White Zombie, Venom, The Smiths, Echo and the Bunnymen, Savatage, Alice Cooper, Kiss, Ratt, .38 Special, Saxon, Dream Theater, P.O.D., Into Eternity, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, CCR, John Mayer, Pavement, Social Distortion, Alice in Chains, sHeavy, The Smithereens, Pestilence, Oasis, Vampire Weekend, Peter Gabriel, Death, Lacuna Coil, Fozzy, Collective Soul, 2pac, Eminem, Jay-Z, Boyz II Men, Tevin Campbell, Marvin Gaye, Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Buckcherry, Jerry Lee Lewis, Buddy Holly, Elvis Presley, Elvis Costello, ABBA, Aerosmith, Sammy Hagar, Dokken, and Kix.
I think Bumpkin has great taste in music.

I Love My Roomies

The groundhog boys hate to say goodbye to her, but they don't mind watching her walk away.

I've thought long and hard about getting a pet.  I love all animals, and I'm very much aware that many dogs and cats are languishing in shelters.  They all deserve good homes and happy lives.  Unfortunately, I'm allergic to dogs and cats.  Although my cat allergy doesn't seem to be as severe as it used to be.  There are several reasons why I have decided to not get a pet.  First of all, they are not allowed in the apartment I'm currently living in.  Also, I want to be free to do what I want, when I want, without feeling guilty that I'm not giving my pet enough attention.  If I was in a very stable relationship with a woman who also wanted a pet, then it might work out.  If I'm not currently giving the pet attention, then perhaps she will be and vice versa.  Another problem is dealing with the death of a pet.  I've lived with a dog before, and he was like a son to me.  If I were to adopt a dog, and live with he or she for several years, it would devastate me when he or she died.  Or, I could die first, which could send his or her life into turmoil.
Bumpkin, however, has forced 3 pets into my apartment: her 2 sisters (Lucinda and Sloopy) and herself.  The best thing about living with 3 groundhogs is being exposed to their cuteness; the worst thing about it is having to watch the movie Groundhog Day 127 times (so far).  It really is time to buy another TV.  At first I was really concerned about the situation.  When I lived with a dog, I was also living with a woman, and both of us shared the responsibilities of taking care of him.  I had never taken care of 1 pet by myself: let alone 3 of them.  Things got out of control pretty quickly.  Then I remembered Bumpkin's superpowers.
"Ah, Bumpkin," I said.
"Yes, human.  What is it this time?" she asked.
"I'm not used to living with 3 groundhogs.  There are certain cleanliness issues that have arisen."
"Get to the point.  I don't have all day to listen to your inane ramblings.  I'm plotting my world takeover."
"Of course.  And, please, allow me to say that it is an honor to be spending the winter here with you and your sisters.  Could you possibly, if it isn't too much trouble-"
"Will you freaking say what you want to say already?!"
"Yes, ma'am.  Sorry ma'am.  Could you please use your powers to help me clean the apartment?"
"But of course."  As soon as she said that, 1 of the windows opened.  The cat box, that the sisters use as their restroom, levitated and flew out the window.  It turned upside down.  Before the tainted kitty litter could hit the ground, it was completely incinerated by a fireball that emanated from Bumpkin's left front paw.  Then the litter box returned to the bedroom and the window closed.  The cord for the vacuum cleaner became uncoiled, plugged itself in, and Bumpkin used her powers to vacuum the entire apartment.  The dirty dishes were next.  Bumpkin washed all of them without touching any of them with her paws.
"Satisfactory?" she asked me.
"Absolutely.  Thank you very much, Miss Bumpkin."
"So you don't mind if I return to my plans for world domination?"
"I certainly don't, Miss Bumpkin.  This is your world, and the rest of us are just squirrels trying to get a nut."
"That sounds familiar.  It's in a song, right/"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Is it 'Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now)' by C & C Music Factory?
"Right again, Miss Bumpkin."
"I like that song.  Play it now."
"Yes, ma'am.  Excellent choice."  And so I did play that song.  And all of us danced together: 3 female groundhogs and myself.  I'm a lucky boy.

Bumpkin on Film

I miss you, Sheila.  Come back if you can.

The 3 groundhog sisters, who are hibernating this winter in my apartment, and I were watching The Matrix on TV.
"Hooey.  I can do anything that dumb human can.  He isn't the one; I am the real one!  What could he do against me?  I bring deadly accurate various-sized fireballs to the table.  I could incinerate him completely before he even knew I didn't like him.  I'm ready too by the way," said Bumpkin.
"What exactly are you ready for Miss Bumpkin?" I asked.
"To take complete control of the Earth from the rule of the humans."
"Wow.  That's pretty good ma'am."
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"No, of course I believe you ma'am, I've seen what you can do.  You're more powerful than Yoda."
"Damn straight," Bumpkin replied.  "Once again, even with Yoda, it could be over as soon as it started.  I could dispatch him with claws, fireballs, or a little of both; it would be my choice."
"That's right ma'am."
"And you don't be condescending to me--"
"Sorry, ma'am--"
"Shut up."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Shut up already!  Don't you know what that means?  Wait!  Don't answer that!  Just literally shut up, you jerk!  And I want to watch Groundhog Day after this!"   As soon as Lucinda and Sloopy heard her say that, they squealed with delight.  The sisters love that movie so much because groundhogs are mentioned several times in the film, and, their personal favorite actor (all 3 of them), Bill Murray, is in it.  Also, at least one groundhog appears in the film, and it's funny.  I've lost track of how many times they've watched it.  I once saw an episode of Cribs in which a rapper had out-Scarfaced quite possibly all or most of the other over-zealous Scarface fans.  Not only did he proudly display Scarface posters and the like, he had set up a TV to play Scarface on a continuous loop: over and over again till forever.  That's what it feels like is happening here.  If not for shows like The Office, 30 Rock, CSI, and ones that involve food (any and all), it could get close to that insane Scarface nonsense.

Hibernation

Bumpkin's Butt

Groundhogs hibernate, and this winter, 3 of them are hibernating in my apartment: Sloopy, Lucinda, and Bumpkin.  Hopefully, it will only be a winter thing.  However, once one has lived indoors, living outdoors presumably loses some of its charm.  Thankfully, groundhogs are small.  I only have 1 bedroom.  I'm glad I bought that futon.  All 3 sisters fit quite comfortably on it.  I'll probably have to buy another TV.  All of us like to watch 30 Rock and The Office, but we don't agree on everything.  Bumpkin likes to watch CSI, Sloopy's favorite show is Dancing with the Stars, and all of them like any show that features food and how to cook or prepare it: especially Lucinda.  I hope that Bumpkin doesn't find out about cable while she's staying here.  I don't have cable.  If she becomes aware of it, I suppose she'll force me to order it, and then I can probably look forward to hours of Food Network channel watching everyday.  I don't like to watch the Food Network.  There is enough temptation out there.  Delicious food is advertised on TV, on the radio, and in magazines.  It might be mentioned in a book you're reading or by a friend at any time.  Intentionally watching scrumptious food on TV is a bad idea in my opinion.  You're liable to make yourself hungry even when you really aren't. 
I'm doing enough shopping and cooking as it is.  The sisters want to try every vegetarian dish they see prepared on TV.  Bumpkin, since she's the only one of the sisters who can write, is always adding foods to the shopping list.  She's also constantly jotting down recipes for me to try.
Groundhog poop has been a problem; as I expected it would.  They were pooping everywhere but the futon.  I doubt I'll get any of my security deposit back when I eventually move.  Although, Bumpkin could help me get every penny of it if she wanted to do so.  After cleaning poop off the carpet many times, I bought some kitty litter and a litter box.  I explained, to Bumpkin, the purpose of these items.  Fortunately, she was receptive to the idea, and she showed her sisters, through example, how to use the litter box.  So things have definitely improved.  But they just eat more and more.  And, obviously, the more they eat, the more they'll poop.  I've never had a cat before.  I'm not used to changing a litter box 8 times a day.  It seems like it's only going to get worse.  
What will happen when they become groundhog adolescents?  Are they going to have several groundhog boys over?  Are they going to have sleepovers with their friends?  What if Bumpkin learns how to use my computer?  Will she be meeting groundhogs on Craigslist?  Will she spend so much time chatting that I'll never get to use my own computer anymore?  Why, oh why, did I cause all of this by naming Bumpkin Bumpkin and subsequently allow the dark netherworld to bestow her superpowers upon her?

Bumpkin Likes to Cuddle

My cuddle buddy: Bumpkin

She really does.  Ever since I told Bumpkin I'd read, in an least 2 psychology books, that touching has great therapeutic benefits, she has insisted that I cuddle with her regularly.  That's fine with me.  It's good for me and it's probably good for her too.  Trust me, it's totally innocent and platonic.  Bumpkin's getting into enough rambunctiousness as it is; I can only wonder how she'll act when she's older, like when she's entered groundhog adolescence.
"Give me a massage," she ordered.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied.  As instructed, I began to rub her tiny feminine groundhog shoulders (upper).
"Oh, yeah," Bumpkin moaned, "that's good."
"I'm glad your enjoying it, Miss Bumpkin."
"How many groundhogs have you massaged before me?"
As much as I love and respect Bumpkin, that was a heck of a stupid question.  "None, Bumpkin.  You're my first."
"It seems to Bumpkin like you've been doing this your whole life.  You are a great masseuse of groundhogs.  No matter where I go, you will be my personal masseuse.  Or, if I find someone better than you, then you will be the personal masseuse of one of my sisters.  And, of course, should you lose one or both of your hands, I will replace you." 
"That's great news ma'am."
"You don't seem to be as excited as I thought you'd be.  Don't you realize how safe you'll be?  Every human who refuses to submit to my whole world rule will be slaughtered.  There will be tons of carnage.  The resulting bloodbath will make the Civil War look like a picnic."
"Wow.  You know about the Civil War?"
"Of course, I've seen quite a bit of the stuff Ken Burns made about it.  It's very informational.  What it's missing completely is the groundhog perspective on the Civil War.  Make a note: I'm going to make a Civil War documentary that explores the groundhog perspective on the war."
"Yes, ma'am."  I pulled the pad out of my pocket in which I wrote down all of her ideas she told me to write down.  I didn't bother to tell her that most groundhogs don't watch or own televisions, because she'd probably launch an effort to get TVs to groundhogs.  Moreover, I'd probably have to lug TVs all over the place, and I don't know how they'll fit in groundhog's holes.  That's why I didn't open that particular can of worms.
 

Bumpkin's Pumpkins

This is not a pumpkin; this is Bumpkin!

I was driving Bumpkin to a nursery to get some sod for her when she saw it: a pumpkin patch.
"What are those?" she asked me telepathically.
"Pumpkins."
"They are not me.  There is only one Bumpkin, and that's me.  By the way, are you trying to say I'm round and fat like those things?  I hope not: for your sake."
"No, Bumpkin, I meant no disrespect.  I said they're pumpkins: not bumpkins.  They sound the same; they rhyme perfectly, but they are indeed completely different.  Some things sound alike, but it's just a coincidence."
"I like them."  She demonstrated her fondness for the pumpkins by using her superpowers to lift all of them off the ground.  They were now following us.  There must have been over a hundred of them.
"Ah, Bumpkin, what you did with those pumpkins, it's called stealing.  The police have a problem with stealing."
"Am I not the freaking mayor of this poopy city?"
"You sure are, ma'am.  And you're the county executive too, for that matter.  For the record, I have no problem whatsoever with you taking those pumpkins.  But mayors and county executives aren't allowed to just take whatever they want without paying for them."
"Why didn't you tell me they needed to be paid for?  Consider it done."  Right after she said that, I saw wallets and purses flying out of windows of the cars in front of me.  I looked around and saw it was happening behind us too.  Bumpkin used her powers to extract the cash from the wallets and purses and send it to the empty pumpkin patch.  The pumpkin patch's employees, who had come out to see what happened to the pumpkins, now scrambled to grab the cash that Bumpkin had sent to them.  The money continued to rain onto the empty patch.
"I think you've probably given them enough money, Bumpkin.  Pumpkins aren't every expensive."
A driver suddenly cut me off: badly.  I told myself I should do my very best to suppress my road rage, especially when Bumpkin is in the car, because she won't hesitate to use her powers in such a situation.
"You jerk!" slipped out before I could stop it.  Instantly, one of the pumpkins smashed into the rear window of the car and shattered it.  The car swerved sharply, went off the road, and hit a tree.
After we bought some sod for Bumpkin, we went home.  Bumpkin set her pumpkins down on the apartment grounds.  They were everywhere.  It was very festive.  Although I couldn't help wondering what Bumpkin would do to the maintenance workers when they inevitably moved them so they could cut the grass.

Bumpkin in Space

Bumpkin before she gained her superpowers.

"Bumpkin, I haven't seen you in a while.  Where have you been?" I asked her one fine day.
"In space," was the young female groundhog's reply.
"What?"
"Are your ears clogged up?  Do you want me to try to clear them by flinging fireballs at them from my left paw?"
"No, ma'am.  I heard you.  It was, just for a second, hard to believe what I was hearing (telepathically, of course)."
"Are you calling me a liar?" she asked.  She held up her left paw in a way I'd seen her do before.  It was her usual pre-fireball-firing stance.
"No, ma'am, no ma'am.  I believe everything you've ever said.  You are, by far, the most honest groundhog I've ever met.  I believe that you've been in space.  Please, please, please tell me more."
"That's more like it.  I was looking at the sky Tuesday.  I said, 'what the heck' and took off for space."
"Wow."
"Shut up."
"Sorry."
"Do you want to hear this or not?"
"Yes, please.  I'm sorry: please continue."
"As I was saying, I took off for space.  It is so quiet up there, but there's no grass or weeds, well, I didn't see or smell any anyway.  Do you want to see space?"
"No thank you, Bumpkin.  I'm just fine here on Earth.  I've got enough going on here.  I don't need to travel to other universes and whatnot: got enough irons in the fire here to worry about."
"That's a yes."
In the next moment, I realized that Bumpkin and I were sitting in my car, which promptly began to ascend, straight up, out of the parking lot.  We must have been going hundreds or even thousands of miles an hour.  The wind was blowing my hair around ridiculously.  Well, it would have if I had hair: if I wasn't bald.  I soiled my underpants.
"OMG!  What is that freaking smell?"
"I'm sorry, Bumpkin.  I'm not used to space travel.  I pooped in my pants."
"Darn it!  I can't take you anywhere!"  My pants and underwear were immediately stripped from my body by Bumpkin's will.  They hovered about thirty feet away as Bumpkin tossed a fireball at them.  She incinerated my pants and underwear with that one fireball.  Then I felt something.  Bumpkin was wiping my backside with toilet paper that she summoned from the Earth.  Thankfully, she was doing it with netherworld dark magic as opposed to using her razor-sharp claws.  Also thankfully, if a demon was wiping my butt, at least he or she was invisible to me.  After my derriere was clean, the used toilet paper was jettisoned from the car and Bumpkin toasted it with a fireball.  Then another pair of underwear and pants emerged from Earth and one or more demons dressed me.  I was as clean as a whistle.  That's just before I wet myself.
"Give me a freaking break!" said Bumpkin.  "I'm not changing you anymore today.  You're just going to have to stew in your own juices until it dries up: if it dries up."

The Bumpkin Chronicles

Young Bumpkin

It's all about Bumpkin.  It's Bumpkin's world, and the rest of us are just squirrels trying to get a nut.  I took her out shopping in my car.  I held the door open for her, and she hopped in.  Our destination was Rochester's Public Market, which is a pretty good farmers' market a few days a week.  I suggested and sold the idea to Bumpkin.  Most stores have a strict "no rodents" policy.  Bumpkin longs for a day when policies like these will no longer exist, and people will realize that it's wrong to discriminate against rodents: especially those who are as powerful as Bumpkin is.  By the way, don't ever call Bumpkin a rodent, if you do, it'll be the last thing you do.
It was my idea to go on a Tuesday.  Saturday is the day of the week on which the public market is busiest.  I figured the more people are around, the greater the chance someone would kick or step on Bumpkin, which would be the last mistake they would make.   In choosing a Tuesday, I made a mistake.  I just hadn't realized it yet, but I would.
It wasn't hard to find a parking spot at all.  I snagged a good one, which I wouldn't have been able to get on a Saturday.  I was able to cart Bumpkin right up to the displays.  She hopped out and strolled toward the merchandise.  I followed close behind her.
"This is it?" she asked me.
"Yes," I replied.
"This is the great public market?"
I was worried about the tone she was using.  "Yeah, it's a Tuesday.  On Saturdays, there are more vendors."
"Well what the hell are we doing here on a freaking Tuesday?"
Now I was definitely worried.  Bumpkin was clearly angry; bad things happen when Bumpkin gets angry.  "I'm sorry, Bumpkin.  I just thought it would be better to come on a Tuesday, because there would be less people walking around who might kick or step on you."
"You mean these people?"  Bumpkin began firing fireballs out of her left paw.  Each found its target of a public market browser.  They were hit in the chest, back, legs, arms, and heads.  You name it, it got hit with Bumpkin's fireballs.  People began to run for their lives.  Bumpkin levitated some watermelons, then cast them with blinding speed toward the runners.  Watermelons smashed into the heads of those who chose to run away.  When she ran out of watermelons, Bumpkin switched to cabbage and whatever else might be a good thing to fling at the moving targets.  It was a bad day at the public market indeed.

Bumpkin Doesn't Like Pesticides

Big girl

He didn't know what was in store for him.  For him, it was probably just another day at work.  I heard the sound of his little buggy, and I didn't think much of it.  After all, the maintenance workers around here get around on golf carts, riding mowers, and at least one other vehicle.  Then I smelt it: one or more chemicals.  I looked out my window and saw him.  He was driving his little buggy all over, and he was spraying pesticides everywhere.  I had never seen anyone do that here before.  I immediately thought about all the little animals who live around here and forage on the grass that he was spraying with chemicals.  Would these chemicals harm them?  Will they smell the pesticides, realize they shouldn't eat the grass, and move on to greener pastures?  I wasn't the only one to ponder this issue.
As usual, once the sound of a motorized vehicle moving across the property was heard, the animals who had been hanging out on the grass fled the area.  All of them fled except for one groundhog: a very special groundhog indeed: Bumpkin.  I watched her sniff the air and make a face.  She didn't like the way it smelled.  She wasted no time.  She took off.  Bumpkin can fly!  I did not know that.  She caught up to the man on the buggy and attached herself to his back.  Then she used her left paw to slit his throat from ear to ear.  She used his blood to write "Don't come back." on the sidewalk.  She wasn't done.  She stood on her hind legs and raised her left paw.  As she did, the buggy levitated.  This was something else I'd never seen her do before.  I rushed outside to see what would happen next.  I watched the buggy get higher and higher.  She was sending it straight up.  It eventually got so high, that I couldn't see it anymore.
"Wow, where are you sending that, Bumpkin?" I asked her.
"To the moon," she replied (telepathically, of course).
"Holy crap!  That's incredible!"  Later, I watched the news.
"An unidentified flying object was spotted by many people today in the Rochester, NY area," the newscaster said.  "Let's go live to Andrea Killeen at the scene."
"Thanks, Linda.  I'm here with Billy Cordon, who witnessed this flying object.  Tell me, Mr. Cordon, what did it look like?"
"It looked like some kind of little buggy."
"And where did it go?"
"It just kept going straight up, higher and higher, until I couldn't see it anymore."
"Thank you, Mr. Cordon.  A man was also murdered in the area where the buggy allegedly went airborne.  Local police are trying to determine if these events are connected or not."
They're connected all right.  

Bumpkin the Deceiver

The deceiver herself: Bumpkin

Bumpkin is the penultimate deceiver.  She is young, cute, and furry.  If someone saw her, they might think, How cute, she must have a walnut-sized brain!  I don't care what the size of Bumpkin's brain is, it's good enough to get the job done.  Bumpkin was thinking about making the jump from mayor of Rochester (She slew the one before her.), to ruling the entire Planet Earth and all of its inhabitants.  She has pondered the move some more since then and has decided to settle for county executive of Monroe County for now.  She said she wants to make sure she's ready when she takes on the entire Planet Earth and all of its inhabitants.  This was her original plan, so perhaps her next step will be to take over the governorship of the state of New York and rename it New Bumpkin.  
I had to look up the directions for the county executive's office on Mapquest, which has never really let me down.  As is my custom, in lieu of printing out the directions, I wrote them down in an effort to save money.  Then I was ready to take the new county executive to her new office.  Well there was a formality to take care of.  The current county executive must somehow be removed from office.  It was a short, pleasant drive.  Bumpkin sat quietly and didn't toss any lethal fireballs out of her left front paw.  Shockingly, she didn't ask me very many questions at all.   We arrived at the building.  I held the door open for her, and she walked in.  I had all the address info, but I checked the plaque anyway.
One of the security guys finally noticed Bumpkin.  "Hey, there's no rodents allowed in here!"  Bumpkin never even looked at the man.  As soon as the R-word had been uttered, she fired one of her fireballs out of her left paw, which struck the security guard hard: knocking him backward several feet into the glass doors, which subsequently shattered, which rained broken glass onto the security guard.  Once Bumpkin found out that the word "rodent" put her into a group that rats belonged to, that totally grossed her out and she won't, for a second, tolerate anyone who tries to group her with some hygienically-challenged rats, as the security guy found out the hard way. 
We finally found the county executive's office after Bumpkin efficiently dispatched the rest of the building's security force within a matter of a few seconds.  She didn't even perspire.  I know, because I know what her perspiration smells like.  It smells like dandelions, grass, and other weeds, because that's what she eats.
"This is Bumpkin," I introduced her to the current county executive.  "She intends to be the new county executive, effective immediately, or she will seize control of the office."
"Yeah, that's fine with me.  She's got it.  She's the new county executive.  I think I'll be leaving now."
Clearly, she believed the rumor that the mayor of Rochester had been slayed by a young groundhog named Bumpkin.  She also probably concluded that it wasn't a coincidence.  She didn't want to have her head separated from the rest of her body, not with fireballs, nor at the business ends of Bumpkin's razor-sharp claws.  However, as she was making her way out of the office, Bumpkin fired a little fireball that hit the former county executive on the backside.  It made her jump from surprise and it singed her skirt, but she hadn't been injured.
"What, pray tell, was that for?"
"For being a coward," I translated for her after Bumpkin answered, telepathically, inside my head instantly.
"Gee whiz, you can't win with these freaking groundhogs!  She singed my best skirt; it's history now!"
"You're lucky to be alive!" I yelled at her.  "Have you any idea how many lives she's taken?  Of course not, you're just like anybody else, you haven't yet met the next supreme ruler of the Planet Earth!  Well, you just did, and I suggest you remember her!  Maybe, if you rush fast enough to kiss her ring, or her feet, the next time you see her, and you will see her again, I guarantee it, then it just might save your life!"  And with that, she left.  I walked back into Bumpkin's office.  I couldn't see her.
"Bumpkin?" I asked.
"I'm over here," she said.  I hadn't been able to see her because she was sitting on her new chair at her new desk, which weren't custom-made for a young groundhog county executive.  What a cutie!  Aside from the security guards, who, let's face it, don't really count anyway, she killed no one.  Not the county executive, nor anyone on the way over here.  The ride back would be another story.