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COCO COLADO'S GUIDE TO THE WORLD'S LAMEST FIRE-NO-WORKS
Posted - 7/10/03 5:17 PM PST
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Independence Day is over but that doesn't mean you have to stop playing with fireworks. St. Patrick's Day was four months ago. Have you stopped drinking? Of course not. So fill your arms with pyrotechnics and head for the living room. It's time to make a skylight.
What? You blew up your cache of fireworks on the Fourth? That's no excuse. We live in a modern age. While the stands at the nearest indian reservation have closed for the season, the internet is here to serve you, 24 hours a day, 478 days a year. A virtual treasure trove of mortars and bombs can be delivered to your door in as little as 48 hours.
With so many fireworks to choose from, how can you tell which ones will tear off the most fingers? M80s and cherry bombs are the obvious choice but they're incredibly difficult to come by...unless you're willing to make your own out of tennis balls and shotgun shells.
There's also a plethora of fireworks out there that will lead you astray with elaborate packaging. These explosives may look like they can level a building and send neighbors and local police authorities fleeing for their lives. They may make great conversation pieces but they're more blah than bang. The following is a guide to a few of the world's lamest fireworks, hosted by the always lovable, always huggable, Coco Colodo the pirate.
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Howdy, mateys. Me name's Coco Colodo the pyrate (with a "y" not an "i", punk) and I'll be takin' things over from here. YEE! HAW! There's nothin' I love more after a hard day of salin' and plunderin' than to grab me some fireworks. They're so purty, almost as purty as a big ol' galleon full of Spanish doubloons. But there's one thing you gotta' look out fer' and that's LANDLUBBIN' FIREWORKS! I call these things fire-no-works, fer' a good reason. They don't fly, they don't bang, all they do is sit on the land and lub it. Those dang ol' things are worse than bitter grog face and, yep, even scurvy. Yes sir, just like a cove full of English Man o' Wars, you'll wanna steer clear of these sunsabitches.
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Name: Exploding Terrorist Heads Four Pack
Maker: Red Rhino Fireworks
What the packagin' sez: "Bin Laden's last moments are a blast of yellow light with screams, followed by silver to red with loud crackling. The final two shots make his head explode!"
What they really do: These dang ol' things last a long time but only cough up a few sparks. They make a little noise but nothin' like the screams of a swab with a cutlass in his gullet.
Walk the plank?: As far as legal fireworks go, they ain't bad. They're the sort of thing you'd find if ya' looted a Boy Scout firework's stand. Nuthin' special but the terrorist's theme is a hoot...if yer' still livin' in 2001. If ya' ain't content shootin' at Saddam on "Conflict: Desert Storm," give these a try. The four pack includes "Bin Laden's Noggin," "So Damn Insane," "Yasser Ara-fart" and "Kim's Dong's Ill."
Instead of lightin' 'em, you should hang on to 'em. Them things will sell for a high price if yer' willin' to wait fifty years, matey. Right now, World War 2 propaganda fetches a high price on the ol' world wide web. Track down a merchant ship full of these bilge rats and ya' won't have to worry about leavin' the lil' buccaneers at home an inheritance.
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Name: Cape Canaveral
Maker: Black Cat Fireworks
What the packagin' sez: "Emits a shower of sparks and a flammable missile."
What it really does: Spits out yellow sparks before launching a plastic rocket more deadly than any cannonball.
Walk the Plank?: Shiver me timbers, should they even be selling this thing after the Columbia disaster? This one's as borin' as pligin' a township in Utah. You'll wanna shout "ARRR!" as Canaveral sends out a tiny shower of sparks. Then the rocket takes off.
Even on the most level poop deck, it's unpredictable and liable to head fer' the nearest pyrate with an eye patch. I lit one of these things on a crowded beach. After flyin' over a line of screamin' wenches, it zipped 'round and knocked the parrot clean off my shoulder. Cape Canaveral ain't a toy, it's a weapon. Send a chest-load of these to yer' favorite enemy and kick back with a spyglass. YEE HAW!
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Name: Ten Parachutes with Flag
Maker: Black Cat Fireworks
What the packagin' sez: "Shoots ten parachutes that slowly fall to ground while in flames."
What it really does: Shoots between zero and three parachutes that quickly fall to the ground while glowing.
Walk the plank?: Arr, curse these blasted things. Send 'em over the plank and straight into dang ol' Davey Jones' locker. I stole a few parachutes from a governor’s wife in Kentucky. I wish she'd given me the clap instead. The first one I lit didn't work and the second only fired two of the ten parachutes. Each of 'em shot to the ground like a mast blasted with a thousand musket balls. I always thought little army dudes were attached to each chute. Instead, all my peepers found was four brown fuses linked to a paper parachute. A million Letters of Marquee should be signed to rid the seven seas of these landlubbin' fire-no-works.
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Name: DynoMite
Maker: World Class Fireworks
Long warnin' side on the side: "Use only under adult supervision. For outdoor use only. Do not take firecracker string apart. Do not hold in hand. never attempt to relight fuse. Never attempt to light fireworks in a closed container. Never carry fireworks in clothing. May result in injury or fire."
What the packagin' sez: "Explodes in a circle of sparks."
What they really do: Explodes in a tiny circle of paper.
Should they walk the plank?: Avast, send these bad boys over the plank, through Davey Jones' Locker and straight into the bowels of Hades. These sticks of "DynoMite" look dangerous but they're more landlubber than buccaneer. I steered my ship to a quiet cove to test 'em out. The Queen of England has a 10,000 gold piece bounty on me head. I don't need that raised to 30,000 for lightin' a deadly firework in a crowded port.
I was expectin' to yell, "YEE HAW!" but all DynoMite mustered was a weak "arrr" from me gullet. Sure, they're fake dynamite but that ain't no excuse, 'specially with a warnin' label like that. With their intimidatin' fuses and fancy packagin', these fireworks should blast a four foot hole in the sand. These things couldn't even poke a hole in the head of the scraggliest bilge rat. Believe you me, I've tried!
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Name: Screams of Alcatraz
Maker: Big Stick Fireworks "Where bigger is always better."
What the packagin' sez: "Sixteen crazy shots of multi colored strobbing stars."
What it really does: Spits out sixteen weak shots that go ten feet in the air. A musket that's spent ten years at the sea can do better.
Walk the plank?: The Screams of Alcatraz broke this ol' pyrates' heart. I had big plans for
her and she done let me down. I wasn't just gonna light this firework, I was gonna woo her. It's not just everyday that come across somethin' like the Screams of Alcatraz. I found her in a honky tonk in Nebraske', sittin' at a table all by her lonesome. I rolled up and gave her a line a talk. In no time, we were off at sea.
I won't lie. I fell hard for the Screams of Alcatraz. I wanted to know what love is. I wanted this lil' firework to show me. When it came time to light her fuse, I didn't just plop her on the poop deck. I headed for the nearest port and rented us the fanciest room at the fanciest tavern you ever done saw. I was gonna do this up proper. I even stole a bottle of wine off a one-eyed swab in the street. We curled up by the fire and when the time came, she broke me black heart in two.
The Screams of Alcatraz didn't scream. She didn't mutter or even whimper. All she did was throw out sixteen tiny little "stars" before dyin' like a shark that's swallowed an anchor. Whatever that feelin' was, be it love or just pyromania, it died before she ran out of stars. No quarter for this lil’ hussy.
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I've known a lot of fireworks in my time. I've seen 'em come and I've seen 'em go. Lemme tell 'ya, it's best to lub and leave 'em. One of 'em even broke my heart but I ain't got time for all that. The only booty I need is good ol' pyrate booty. There's plenty of explosives in the sea and there's many a town in need of a plunderin'.
Avast, ye maties. I hope you enjoyed my lil' review. These dead fireworks may tell no tales but that wasn't gonna stop me. You've done made it all the way done here, so you deserve somethin’ for yer’ trouble. Here's a Quicktime video of explosions set me favorite song in whole dang gone world. Just follow the link. In closin': YEE HAW!
Next time: Two executive passes to the Women's US Open mysteriously land in your mailbox. What do you do, son? What do you do?
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