There Is No Problem (Chronicles of My Neighbor Part 2)

My crazy neighbor’s was at it again this weekend.
My lawn tends to get mowed at a time many would feel is far too early. He is one of those many. He has in the past, spent hours in my garage raving endlessly about any subject that bubbles up to his childlike mind just to stop me from executing my desired task. Yapping and talking, pissing and moaning...as if he had some type of minority consensus. Ha, I’m the majority here. Welcome to my true Democracy. Filibusted!
Unfortunately, during my last mowing session, you could say I fell on a tad of bad luck. Although, he would, I’m sure, have called it ‘a bit of bad karma’. My Craftsman 22", self-propelled, cutter-mulcher-bagger chose, half way through my front yard therapy, to up and quit on me.
It was then I heard it. An evil sound echoing from across the fence. It was him. Pointing and sneering. Dancing and writhing. Have to say however, that once again I was somewhat amazed to find that Mr. Happy was even up and about at this early hour. Who knew one could buy Starbucks Grande Caramel Latte on a Link card. He was in obvious ecstacy as between the Machiavellian laughter I heard him shouting over and over, “Quagmire! Quagmire!”
As I glared in his general direction, angry already at my broken machine, and that being topped off by his best impression of a raving lunatic, he began his triumphant saunter out from the dark side and into the light.
“Hey neighbor, having a nice morning?” He barked.
“Seems my mower’s on the fritz.” I replied biting my tongue.
“Don’t look like it’s broken to me. Sure don’t think it needs to be fixed at all. Looks like it’s just fine the way it is. Hey, that’s just the way I like to keep mine running. Look, if you just left it like it is and ignored the problem, I’m sure the City would come by and mow eventually. That’s what we pay taxes for, right?” Was his reply.
“Ah, but it is broken. And this is a disaster. My disaster. And the difference between you and me is I intend to do something about it.” I growled.
“Wonder if I got some bad gas?” I wondered aloud.
“No, that can’t be it.” He replied.
“Maybe if I changed the spark plug.”
“Nope, that won’t work either.”
“You think the air filter might be clogged, then?” I asked in rising frustration.
“No I don’t.” Was his only reply.
“Alright then, what the hell is your great idea. What is your spectacular plan of attack?”
“I don’t have one,” He smirked. “Just don’t like any of yours!”
My mind was reeling. I had to do something and the first thing that came to mind was to check the gas. And low and behold, it was empty! I had forgotten to fill the tank this morning when I was stunned and taken aback by Dr. Do-Nothing’s new yard sign...’ANWR, Karl Rove’s Evolutionary Experiment’
Then with all the coolness of an ice cube on a penguin’s ass, I sauntered to the garage, grabbed the gas can, and filled up my beloved machine. Two pulls and I was again up and running. Two shoves of the mower in my neighbors direction, and he was up and running as well.