No amount of coaxing could convince him to leave his post atop the storm shelter.
He'd packed his valuables and practically dared those storms to come his way!
He also begged us for company - I imagine it gets kinda lonely being the lone storm spotter at 6 AM.
We weren't near as vigilant as he'd hoped we'd be.
He boldly carried on without us - always keeping those valuables close at hand:
A tube of chapstick.
A jacket.
His jar of money.
His pistol.
His dead grasshopper.
And his favorite duct taped sword.
But the storms are past now.
And we're all alive.
Well, except for the grasshopper.
He's still dead.
