Rich and I made the match guns in five minutes. Coupla clothespegs, a few strike anywhere wooden matches, and we were ready for juvenile terrorism.

      Almost ready; because first, we had to test them.

      We loaded ‘em up on our back lot firing range, and took careful aim.

      Click, snap! Two smoke-trailing missiles sizzled into the target.  This was better than expected -- much better.

      We looked down at our weapons, then at each other and whispered the words together.

      "The wasp's nest."

      The damn nest had defied us all summer, and still owed us for the stings of the previous week.  Well today we'd collect on that debt.  If the wasps didn't agree, tough.  We had the ultimate weapon now.  Theirs were obsolete.

      There'd be no more tossing stones at the grey, football - sized nest; no more whacking it with sticks; no more messing around til we got stung.  The nest would suffer the fiery death it deserved.  Because we were the masters now, and stupid little insects didn't stand a chance.

      We checked our weapons, made our way through the trees, and stopped to discuss strategy about ten feet from the nest.  Already, sentry wasps were buzzing around to our side of the hive, just spoiling for a rematch.

      Rich and I nodded to each other, raised our arms in unison, and took careful aim.

      The first coupla shots fell short, so we moved a little closer.  The third failed to ignite as it was launched - which was too bad - as it spiked smack into the center of the grey mass.  We just shook our heads, reloaded, and fired again.

      This salvo was perfect. Both flaming torches sliced into the nest.

      Within seconds, smoke was belching out the entrance hole.  Then flames began licking up the walls, curling the paper into palm-sized pieces that blackened and fell away.

      The wasps seemed quite annoyed at this indignity, and buzzed around the flaming wreck in obvious distress.  We just laughed and congratulated ourselves on our military skill.

      Until Richard grabbed my arm and pointed.

      "Christ, Mur.  Look!  Over the nest.  The friggin' tree's catching fire!"

      And surely it was.  Spruce does have a low flash point, and so did the tinder dry construction lumber leaning against the smouldering branch.  Stuff was happening just too fast.

      "Ahhhh, Rich, I think we'd better do something.  Before the whole tree goes up."

      "We can't.  The wasps are really pissed off now.  Look at ‘em. They'll be on us in a second.  They can kill, ya know, those li'l bastards."

      This shut us up for a few seconds -- til the large branch over the nest started to crackle and smoke.  We exchanged glances, realizing we were in really deep crap.  Richard, who must have passed six feet in height by his twelfth birthday, spoke first.

      "Ok.  I'm taller, so I'm gonna try to knock the nest off the tree.  Maybe that'll stop it.  I'll just run past and smash it with a stick.  Be ready in case I miss."

      He picked up a four-foot length of maple bough and dashed at the nest.

      One whack was enough; the flaming nest crashed to the ground trailing smoke and fire as it fell.  Those wasp guardians not buzzing around the fallen hive circled in search of the vandal.

      They didn't have far to look.  A yelp and a screech, and Rich was passing me and yelling.

      "Run!  Christ.  Quick!  They got me. Must be four or five of ‘em. The li'l fuckers."

      We dashed about fifty feet, stopping only when the enraged buzzing ceased.  Slowly, we turned around to survey the situation.  The branches, robbed of the incendiary inspiration of the burning nest, fizzled to a gentle smoulder.  Even the spruce needles stopped their sputtering crackle.

      "Well, Rich, ya got it."

      "Yeah, but look at this. The little pricks."

      He pulled up his tee-shirt to reveal a half dozen angry red welts along his side.

      "But we still roasted ‘em good, Mur."

      We looked at each other and burst out laughing as we watched the last of the nest curling up in flames.

      "Hey, Rich.  I know where there's another one.  Even bigger."

      The silence lasted only a few seconds.

      "Ok.  Let's go.  Only this time . . ."