[ CW ] TropeDay Prompt : Team Rocket Wins !

Hardly camouflaged, but suitably out of the way, he crouched behind a rock and admired the latest contraption. Atop the cliff overhanging the road, levered perilously on the edge, teetered a giant Acme boulder. Stretching invisibly across the black top below was thin trip wire. The remarkably fast bird would trip and be stunned. As the fowl stood and regained composure, a rocket would be fired, destroying the ledge of the cliff and allowing the boulder to plummet to the earth, crashing and pancaking the elusive emu. 
 
 Such was the unnecessary and overly-engineered nature of each one of his schemes. 
 
 *meep meep! * 
 
 A streak of feathers followed by a rooster tail of dust stormed down the pavement towards the trap. Wylie crouched, peering around the edge of the rock to see the cloud rise and fall, looming ever closer through the winding and hilly roads of the canyon. 
 
 *meep meep! * 
 
 This time louder. Wylie sat with his back to his hiding place, tucking his limbs around so as not to expose any bit of himself. 
 
 *vvvvvvvrrrrrrrrrooooooooooooooooooooooooom! * 
 
 **snap** 
 
 *tumble* 
 
 The old coyote jolted to his feet. Standing directly on the X he painted on the road stood the beast. Its neck wavered side to side and a halo of stars circled its head. The coyote's jaw dropped. It had cost him fifty years, seven hundred and forty-three failed attempts, four marriages, several life savings and every friendship he'd ever made. But now on the simple road before him, stood his nemesis. Dazed and confused. 
 
 *mmrrrreeeep* 
 
 The malfunctioning call of the bird snapped Wylie out of his trance. He hastened to raise his rocket and aimed it at the ledge. With a pull of the trigger, a missle tore up the cliff and struck precisely and accurately where he had intended. A hail of dirt began to rain down followed by a large, whistling boulder. The coyote snapped to attention. He faced and saluted his feathered foe, staring him dead in the eye. The bird remained dazed, a tornado of dust engulfed the scene. Only the halo of stars was visible. The whistling grew louder, and louder until finally Wylie retreated from his attention and plugged his ears, cowering behind the rock, bracing for impact. 
 
 *crash* 
 
 Not a *meep*. 
 
 Coughing but completely unscathed, Wylie crawled from behind his rock and stood to survey the scene. The dust was thick and coated his palette. Waving his hands as he walked toward the spot, enough dust cleared he could make out the outline of the boulder. Slowly and cautiously he approached it, anticipating some form of reciprocal injury. Soon, enough dust had cleared he clearly saw the boulder, and the crushed black top below it, and a pair of ostrich legs protruding from the end. Wylie gasped and snapped to attention, once again saluting his enemy. 
 
 A tear rolled down his cheek. 
 
 -- - 
 
 Not really sure if I captured the essence of the `` trope'', have n't tried this before.
