A Story by J.V. Stanley

(pronounced: ick-bafoons) this story is a political satire based on an inside joke from my ex-husband's old roommates. This is a tribute to them and this joke.





“Dan, this is Nexus.   We have a mission for you.”

“Yes, what is it, sir?”  Dan replied, running his hand over the dark stubble upon his head as he spoke into the receiver.

“We need the ICBIFEWNs ASAP!”

“Right away sir, I’ll do what I can.”  He closed the phone briskly and walked to the narrow entrance to the armory.   Gathering the flamethrower, cannon, MASER, TNT, and miscellaneous surgical tools, he made his way down to the Van Riper Campground in search of weasels.

Setting down his equipment upon a rickety old picnic table, he grabbed the first instrument he needed to construct the ICBIFEWNs: TNT.  He came across a promising weasel, hiding within the brush behind a large oak tree.  It sat there innocently gnawing on the bark of the tree sharpening its teeth.  Lighting the wick of the dynamite and letting it burn almost to the end, Dan threw it into the brush toward the unsuspecting weasel.  The sound of the explosion was heard for miles, and the scent of burnt fur filled the afternoon winds.

“Ha!  I got him!” Dan exclaimed as he watched the weasel crawl pathetically from under the burning oak that now lay charred and splintered.  The weasel, though wily and stealthy in nature, did not expect to be detonated by a bald-headed metallurgist.  Scowling, the weasel brushed its tousled, singed fur and fled underneath a thicket of wild thimbleberry bushes.

Dan walked briskly to the picnic table where his arsenal lay splayed out upon a canvas tarp, and eagerly picked up his next weapon of choice: the flamethrower.  Creeping toward the Thimbleberry patch he peered through the twisted brambles at the weasel that sat pathetically licking its singed fur.  He lit the pilot of the flamethrower and aimed it at the weasel that looked up at him with a scathing look that said, “Go ahead, I dare you.  Always obliging, Dan pulled the trigger and suddenly a burst of liquid shot from the weapon, the whole thicket engulfed in flames.  The entire thatch was incinerated within a few minutes, but the weasel still trudged on, its fur now nonexistent replaced by blackened soot and burnt berries.  Its vain cries of agony and rage echoed through the woods and caught the attention of innocent campers.

“Ma ma, wa is dat man dooooin’?” said a little girl with curly blonde hair.

“I’m not entirely sure, honey, but he looks kinda dangerous.  Let’s pretend we didn’t see him and maybe he’ll leave us alone.” Replied the mother as she gathered her child and quickly moved toward their Winnebago, looking over her shoulder as she walked.

Dan eyed the weasel that now scampered up a tree, thinking it’ll outsmart the crazy human by gaining height rather than distance.  Dan took this opportunity to replace the flamethrower with a high tech MASER.  The weasel bared its teeth and spat at him as it watched Dan circle the tree to get a clear shot, cursing him out in its own weasel dialect. 

“Ahhh…my favorite, Radiation!” uttered Dan as he aimed for the weasels’ targeted possessions.  Without any hesitation, he took aim and let loose a burst of microwaves that shot through weasel instantaneously.  The weasel began to twitch and convulse like it were experiencing epileptic seizures.  Its eyes bulged as it fell from the tree into a pile of charred leaves.  It lay there motionless, eyes vacant, its hind legs kicking absently at the ground.

Dan laughed heartily as he gathered the now vegetative, drooling weasel in his hands and placed him upon the picnic table to perform the surgery.  From the depths of the duffle bag, he could hear the muffled sound of that familiar ringtone.   

“Yes?” he asked.

“This is Nexus, are the ICBIFEWNs completed yet?

“I’m just now performing the surgery sir.”

“Good, meet us at the rendezvous point in half an hour to complete the mission.”

“Sir, yes sir.”

After Dan completed the surgery, he placed the quasi-coherent weasel upon a bed of clean, dry leaves and gave it some cool water to boost its strength.  Arsenal in hand, Dan hurriedly trudged through the battle zone and into his Ford Bronco, looking back once to see the weasel, fully alert now flipping what seemed to have been the finger as Dan sped off toward the rendezvous point.

“I’ve done it, I’ve got the ICBIFEWNs, shall we load the cannon?”

“Yes.” Replied the man with the trench coat, face shadowed despite the afternoon sun.  “We have declared war on Romania, our only chances of winning are the ICBIFEWNs.  We must launch now and prove to the American people that our weapons of mass destruction are far superior than that of any other country.”

“Cannon ready on the mark….three….two….one….fire….” said the man with the trench coat after Dan had it loaded.  The shot blasted through the air on an arch and headed toward the unsuspecting country of Romania.

“So, why did we declare war on Romania anyways, sir?” Dan asked.

The man with the trench coat simply shrugged.  “Eh, their beer sucks.” He replied as he dusted off his coat and walked away.

© 2011 J.V. Stanley

Author's Note

J.V. Stanley
Remember, though you may not understand the joke, basically a friend of mine got drunk and came up with this weapon: Intercontinental Ballistic Exploding Flaming Weasel Nuts. Apparently to him Intercontinental Ballistic Missals just seemed too nice to him which is why he incorporated the angry weasel into it. So, because I couldn't' think of any specific humor topic to write about for this particular assignment in my Narrative and Descriptive Writing class, I figured I'd embellish a bit on this concept and make a tribute to my dear drunken friend. My prof was greatly amused. I got an A.

**Nexus is the name given to the house where they lived, a sort of non-fraternity- fraternity

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....Sorry if I sound like some idiot internet troll, but LOL. It kind of makes me sad (poor weasel), but for some reason, the way that Dan completed his 'mission' for ICBIFEWNs and the things that the poor weasel had to go through (all without dying, o.o amazing), somehow, it made me laugh quite a bit.

Also, I love that picture!

Posted 8 Years Ago

It's interesting... I might have my brother (you LOVES beer, LOL) read it. He'll probably get the inside joke in the story. :D

Posted 8 Years Ago

ok ...inside joke and had to be there.. but concept is intriguing...cute write.

Posted 8 Years Ago

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3 Reviews
Added on October 16, 2011
Last Updated on October 16, 2011
Tags: politics, weasels, war, beer, humor, satire, parody, weapons, explosives, things that make you go BOOM


J.V. Stanley
J.V. Stanley

The Upper Peninsula of Michigan, MI

J. V. Stanley is the author of two books (both available on amazon). She is also the CEO and Founder of Writerz Block editing service where she has worked with authors such as Kandice C. Mason, John .. more..