Wile E. Coyote (3/5)

In the afternoon you can find me painting a tunnel onto the side of a mountain, or perched precariously on the edge of a cliff waiting to release an anvil. In general, just deploying some sort of implement of death upon which an unsuspecting road runner will stumble. The only trouble is he never seems to get caught in the trap. He just blows right over it, beep-beeping like some truck driver with road rage, and never triggers it. Then I go out to check the device and the blasted thing traps me! Caught in my own frigging trap!