I, wrongfully, thought that getting up to the fan would be the hardest part of bringing El Sabado Gigante (AKA ceiling fan) to his knees. Unfortunately, gravity and physics were El Sabado's sidekicks. When you have to lean significantly forward on a ladder to reach said fan, it is difficult to remove without tumbling down the ladder and crushing the secret service agent (ours was named Andy) at the bottom of Ladder B. Not to mention, the bone fragments and other shrapnel that may attack your two computer nerds (ours were named Paul and John).
If you don't believe me, have a look at these:
Picture of a worried Teri
Now you may recall that in Part B of this blog series, I stated that your secret service agent needs to have his gun with him. Apparently, this distubed many of my readers, and I was accused of forwarding NRA politics in a blog about home improvement. They blabbed on something about perpetuating violence in the community. So I called Andy and put a hit on them. If any FBI, Police, CIA, Cub Scouts, Girl Scouts, or mall security guards read that last sentence, please know that I was JUST JOKING. You silly people. (Note to the secret service, give andrew a raise, he is a crack shot)
Where am I going with this? Well, you will need your own secret service agent to shoot down your own El Sabado Gigante from your cathedral ceiling. It just occured to me that some people may not call their ceiling fans El Sabado Gigante. While I find this a completely accurate name for a spineless device that blows wind and gives me a headache, you may call your fans things like Seymour... or Gladys... or El Presidente Boosh. Well, if you write a blog feel free to call your fan whatever you wish, mine is El Sabado Gigante, and Andy shot it off my ceiling.
Or at least he almost did... TO BE CONTINUED
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