He appeared out of nowhere, his bumbling buzzing reverberating in my ears, as he banged ponderously against the window with his meaty wings, raising my anxiety levels like the test of the emergency broadcasting signal, in the middle of my favorite show.
He was voluminous, for a bug at least, of dubious heritage, and I knew, without needing a prophecy, that like Voldemort and Harry Potter, one of us had to go... and he was the squatter.
Now, all my windows are properly screened, but he must have classified arthropod superpowers, either that or he had sneaked in via the tiny spaces around the air conditioner.
Note to self-take foam insulating strips away from Dovi, as they are not swords, and need to be stuffed back around the air conditioner to prevent further infiltrations-.
I just hoped Mr. Bug, didn't have a family somewhere, ready to move in as soon as he has scouted out the place. A thought which did not ease my mind in the slightest.
Note to self-take foam insulating strips away from Dovi, as they are not swords, and need to be stuffed back around the air conditioner to prevent further infiltrations-.
I just hoped Mr. Bug, didn't have a family somewhere, ready to move in as soon as he has scouted out the place. A thought which did not ease my mind in the slightest.
He could fly well too, my very worst kind of bug besides jumpers.
I do not like insects at all. If at all possible, I give them a wide berth. I was home alone, so not even my five year old son, or other knights in shining armor were there to help me kill the droning interloper.
The battle commenced, I threw my Doc marten at the window, quite accurately. The bug fell- or pretended to fall- He seemed quite contented to land gently straight on a throw pillow. There he sat comfortably while I threw another Doc marten at him, followed by a pair of sneakers, another pair of Doc Martens, and any other bad-ass heavy shoes I could possibly find.
He nestled under the pillow, probably laughing at me shrilly, as the shoes bounced off in all directions, their rubber molded soles increasing trajectory.
He nestled under the pillow, probably laughing at me shrilly, as the shoes bounced off in all directions, their rubber molded soles increasing trajectory.
To get close enough to squish him, I needed to be within his flight zone.
Adrenaline rushed through my body like a cold shower, as I picked up the pillow and shook him off. He sidled lazily onto another pillow.
I cautiously threw it aside and as he landed on the floor. I threw my very last boot...and squashed him flat.
I cautiously threw it aside and as he landed on the floor. I threw my very last boot...and squashed him flat.
Yuk.
That showed him.
Then I cried. 
Cried? You will get used to bug wars, and then instead of crying you will raise your hand in victory. Alas, we have Pamello bugs, huge brown clever things with long antennas. The thing is not to let the bug spot you. You must be stealth armed with a weapon of choice. Mine is a Verizon phone book. Once the American cockroach is spotted, its war time baby and I am in for the kill. Nothing comes between me and the enemy. I move couches single handily; I lay in wait very patiently and then blam... Down comes the phone book. I wait till I here the satisfying crunch and then I lift Verizon white pages oh so gently and peak at the flattened remains of my kill. VICTORY! I tear off the last soiled pages of Verizon White Pages and crumple bug into a Verizon bug ball. The last bug had the W pages. I am afraid it has become quite a sport. Now American Cockroaches tremble in fear as they see my presence looming over their exoskeleton.
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The last line -- heart-breakingly isolated. Nice.
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