If you saw Monday's newspaper, you probably noticed this jaw-dropping Page 1 headline: "Invasive carp heading toward Chattanooga."
Yikes! Head to the hills.
Not since Gen. Sherman's march to the sea has an invading force seemed so ominous - and inevitable.
With the story was a picture taken on the Illinois River of about 100 crazed carp jumping out of the water and flopping all over creation. The scene looks like a mosh pit at a Limp Bizkit concert.
These are some freaky fish, and they are coming to our town by way of the Tennessee River. Any day, this swirling vortex of fish flesh could come flipping and flopping around Moccasin Bend like a school of piranha in search of a wounded wildebeest.
I, for one, think we need to start a carp offensive. Furthermore, I would like to volunteer to be the city's Carp Czar, a post I'm proposing as an offshoot of the Office of Homeland Security.
As a kid in the 1960s, I was considered the carp fisher king of my neighborhood in Columbia, Tennessee, which was aptly named Riverside. I lived about a block from the Duck River, a noted hangout for derelict carp.
I'll have to say, our carp were tame compared to the hyperactive ones in that newspaper photo. I could cast a juicy night-crawler worm right beside a big, 5-pound carp in the Duck River, and he'd just smirk and light a Hav-A-Tampa cigar. No way he was taking the bait.
However, I am pleased to report than an M-80 firework, essentially a quarter stick of dynamite, wiped that smirk off Mr. Carp's face. (Disclaimer: This is a First Amendment-protected parody column. Fifty-year-old events depicted in this humor column may or may not have actually happened in real life. So do not try them at home.)
It appears the new breeds of carp working their way toward the Scenic City - the so-called silver and bighead carp - are much more manic than the tired old fish of my youth. It's like they've read on Fishbook feeds that Chattanooga is a party town and so they are dancing on down to the Dynamo of Dixie.
One caution: Be careful about overreacting to this fish article. Newspaper reporters are generally not the last word on fish issues. I distinctly remember years ago a reporter in the newsroom standing up and asking loudly, "Are fish animals?"
"No, Einstein," quipped a co-worker. "Fish are plants."
Anyway, here are my strong suggestions on how we fight the coming carp plague.
* Dump Adderall in the water.
It appears that this new breed of invasive carp has an attention deficit problem. If they would just settle down and focus on fish stuff - like nibbling on plankton and bragging about how they once shook off a treble hook loaded with stink bait - we could all breathe easier.
* Call in the NRA.
Evidently these invasive carp are so hyper that they leap out of the water at the first sign of a bass boat.
If they become a real menace here, we could send a column of jet skis up the river to flush them out, and then line the banks with trap shooters armed with double-barrel shotguns. Then, when the fish go airborne - bada bing bada boom - no more carpies!
* Make a last stand at the Chickamauga Dam lock.
So these fish can jump. OK, we get it.
But can they jump high enough to clear the walls of Chickamauga Dam to continue their march upstream? I say no. This means that if we can make a last stand at the dam, the carp caravan will be dispersed. It's up to our leaders - are you listening Rep. Chuck Fleischmann - to carp-proof the Chick Lock.
So, for the love of cod, Congressman, build that wall!
* Feed them popcorn.
I've noticed that the lake carp at Lake Winnie, our local amusement park, have grown so fat and happy on popcorn that they are no longer interested in mischief. So why don't we dump a barge full of Jiffy Pop in the Tennessee River down around Huntsville, Alabama, and let the carp get fat and happy before they get here.
Or, alternately, we could cut a canal into North Georgia and channel the carp down toward Atlanta with sprinkles of Orville Redenbacher's Gourmet Popping Corn.
Stay with me here. The Atlanta folks want our Tennessee River water, right?
So let the big-head lawmakers in Atlanta meet a million deranged bighead carp.
Sounds like poetic justice to me.
Contact Mark Kennedy at mkennedy@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6645.