They've gone and done it again.
These rowdy Hillmombans take things too far. Shooting at stop signs is prohibited in our rural nation, but apprehension and prosecution of the marksmen is a Sisyphean task. We law-abiding citizens barely blink an eye anymore at the ventilated traffic signs. Likewise, it is not uncommon for such markers to list drunkenly to one side. That's what happened to our new stop sign that replaced the shot-up stop sign.
Yesterday, Stoppy was leaning even further. Like he had a case of the spins, or needed to regurgitate the last evening's liquid courage without soiling his shiny unileg. Imagine our surprise this morning, upon heading to town for The Pony's overnight sojourn with his grandma, when we observed the absence of Stoppy.
He was gone. Gone with the Rowdies. Headed for parts unknown. But most definitely for parts. Only Hillmomban Rowdies would think to steal stop signs for scrap metal. I hope they have the foresight to melt Stoppy down to his molten beginnings, then allow him to re-congeal before trying to garner cash for his carcass.
Then again...I am sure the Rowdies have contacts who will purchase Stoppy in all his red shining glory.