Gardening

I arrived at the allotment, ready for the latest battle in the War of the Weeds.
The weeds had advanced significantly since my last visit and I was ready to wipe them out in a pincer movement.
With my arsenal of gardening tools I slowly began wiping them out. There would be no survivors this time.
The sound of a motor starting drifted across from a field next to the allotments. It grew louder and louder and its pitch became higher and higher. A helicopter slowly appeared behind the hedge. It lurched forwards like a drunken uncle at a wedding until the pilot gained some semblance of control.
It flew away from the allotments and then turned and headed straight towards me. It was very low.
I jumped over the fence and began to run up the track to the road.
I turned just in time to see the helicopter crash into my plot. It was very soon engulfed in flames. I caught a glimpse of the pilot as the machine burned. It looked like a man made entirely from weeds. He lifted his hand and gave me the finger and he was visibly laughing.
The fuel leaking from the helicopter was spreading all over the allotment. My shed was soon on fire.
The latest battle was well and truly lost. Kamikaze weed man had made sure of that.
Well played, weeds, but I will return.