Home Invasion!

Last night my home was invaded by an evil, winged, pointy-assed, demon!

Specifically of the wasp variety:



And yes, he was armed:




*shudder*

Okay... I might just be evil-winged-pointy-assed-demonaphobic. I'll take my shots without a grimace, give blood, hold my own in a knife fight, dodge gun fire... I won't enjoy it, but I'll put up with it if need be.

Just don't put me in a room full of these god damn things... or even one of them.

Perhaps it was my childhood experience of inadvertently running over a mud dauber nest with a lawn mower and being swarmed by these dirty little bastards...



*double shudder*

Might have something to do with it.

...

Anyhoo... one of these hellspawn decided to drop right on in last night... totally uninvited of course, to which I quickly ended my chat conversation and made a run for the safety of anywhere the hell else.

And by run, I mean slowly creeping my way towards the door in hopes of not being noticed by this evil bug and behaving much as if I was trying to defy a motion detector until I got on the other side of that door that somehow managed not to keep this jerk at bay.

Continuing my interrupted conversation on the phone outside, I relayed the tragic hostile takeover of my living space and began debating what could be done to outlast the occupation forces.

To which my friend and ally felt it necessary to relate a recent story of a decapitated wasp that managed to survive for another 6 hours... confirming my view that a shotgun wouldn't be overkill in any attempted insurgency. Unfortunately there's no applicable 'castle doctrine' here in Illinois that would get me off the hook with the authorities and neighbors over such a tactic.

So I made myself comfortable in my car and while conversing began to rationalize my new mobile living arrangement.

After more distracting conversation, running a couple errands, and generally stalling on the inevitable return to hostile territory, I finally managed to make it back inside... rolled up magazine in hand. Stalking through my own home in slow motion... hunched over like a cave man... and looking like a crazy person as I scanned every nook and cranny up and down for the antagonist.

Soon he would be squished and I would be victori-ACK!!!

*running away*

So having locked myself in my office now I was feeling far more secure, but still feeling a bit trapped. I could always climb out the office window if need be... I guess...

Why do these things always land on something soft that makes thwacking them a far less certain operation?

Having noticed the evil minion had aligned himself closer to the one active light source in the place while I had been out and about earlier I began covert runs out into the unsecured regions of my apartment, changing the lighting pattern in hopes of eventually coaxing him towards the back door and it's lovely porch light outside.

To which of course, he moved. Where, I had no clue. And for quite some time my plan appeared to have backfired. Especially while I continued my crazy caveman routine in a mostly dark environment... with every shadow a potential sanctuary for impending doom.



Some time in the wee hours of the morning the wasp finally made his fatal move and I got to end my parody of the LSD consuming nocturnal cave man.

He landed on my kitchen floor... the room with the last illuminated refuge.

And I, conveniently enough, had a college text book on Genetics within arm's reach upon the discovery.

And after what was probably about 5 minutes of aiming and slowly gearing up my technique for the final death blow....

I SLAMMED the book down on the dirty little bastard as hard as I could and quickly pounced on top of it and gave it a couple sturdy stomps!!!

To which I then slowly... ever so slowly... checked for survivors.

...

...

Leg twitch!

*STOMP* *STOMP* *STOMP*

*SMEEEEEEAAAR!!!!*

...

And then it was over.



...I hope.