Oh, life was so good then. I didn't have to work, and I got to sleep in. A beautiful start to the day, made even better by sitting around and eating a late. ( It was ramen, quick boiled and just slightly al dente. A meal fit for an impoverished and lazy king. Actually, it may be time for me to go food shopping soon...) Be that as it may, the day was only slightly spoiled by running into an earwig as I was washing up afterwords. Sitting behind the sink, complacently eyeing me and no doubt thinking in its earwig-y way "A-ha! Here is an easy target. Fat and happy after a late lunch, he will be an easy target later. The earwig high command will be so pleased. I may even get that promotion to Nuisance First Class!"
Well, I made short work of that line of thought, let me tell you what! Thinking quickly, I grabbed my soap dispenser (no shampoo bottles being handy) and let go with a nice left and plenty of follow-through. The earwig expired on the spot, and I went on my way, the day having been saved and my mood only improved by the quickness and painlessness of the victory. At least, that's what I thought! If that had been all, I wouldn't be sitting here, sharing my exploits with you.
What I didn't know is that the first earwig had only been a scout, a mere ruse to get get me off my guard!
It was at this point that I retired to my bath, content in the knowledge of a job well done. I had completed my ablutions, toweled off, and was preparing to attire myself, when some hunch - nay, some PREMONITION caused me to look down before putting my foot through my under-drawers. And there, staring up at me from my underwear, was an earwig. Wait, let me repeat that: THERE. WAS. A. FREAKING. EARWIG. STARING AT ME FROM THE DEPTHS OF MY OWN PERSONAL UNDERWEAR!
Needless to say, my emotions were mixed.
I felt Stunned of course, because there was an earwig in my underwear. Loathing, also because there was an earwig in my underwear. Terror, once more because there was an earwig in my underwear. Bewilderment, for the reason stated above. Sad, because of the same, previously stated, point. But embracing and overarching everything else, like unexpectedly finding out your pillow is a 50 pound slug, was Horror, because (everybody say it with me now) THERE WAS A FREAKING EARWIG IN MY THRICE CURSED UNDERWEAR!
In my previous post I took care to emphasize that while I was forced to squish my earwig adversary beneath the crushing embrace of a shampoo bottle, there were no hard feelings in this encounter. We were enemies, yes, but mixed with that feeling were strains of admiration and, dare I say it? Yes, even companionship. In this encounter, there was nothing of the kind. My reactions were swift, and possibly even a shade heroic. (If there are any single ladies reading this, I want to assure you that my ability to dispose of vermin with a single, steely swipe of my shampoo bottle is second only to the late, great Bruce Lee. I assume this is what all women desire most in a mate, so, uh... sup?)
I started by letting out my own personal version of the rebel yell, which starts low with a series of quick, yelping cries, followed by a gradually ascending warble that increases in timbre until it reaches more of what I would personally describe as a "hellish" volume. This gets me in the mood for battle, and could in no way be described as "girly" or "really, it's just an earwig, will you quit screaming already" by anyone, particularly my roommate.
My morale taken care of, the next move, as any general will tell, is to confront the enemy on your own terms. I did this by gracefully extending the undergarment in question to arms length and shaking it firmly but gracefully until the earwig in question was deposited upon the bathroom floor. Unfortunately, this gesture resulted in my losing sight of the creature for a moment, which resulted in a moment (only a moment!) of panic. My shampoo bottle, favored weapon and stalwart companion in troubled times, lay across the room in the tub, and my way there was blocked a creature who could probably slice my toe clean off with a single swipe of its crushing pinchers, or at least maybe pinch me slightly and give me the heebie-jeebies.
But, there! On the bathroom rug! A movement. The enemy is in sight! Now I just have to figure out how to retrieve my erstwhile weapon while maintaining all of my digits intact and un-pinched. Now, keep in mind that in this moment, due to the circumstances of this attack I am still in the raw, as it were, graced only with what God granted me upon my birth and my natural fortitude.
That made the whole situation somewhat more... Volatile as you can no doubt imagine. Now, I have to face this earwig au naturale, confronting my inner fears and insecurities, as well as the be-pinchered form of my foe. Mano-a-mano, He rushed at me and in that moment, I dug deep. My whole life seemed to flash before my eyes, and I knew what I had to do! I seemed to become one with my primitive ancestors, and just like they did when they were rushed by a bug smaller than their pinky toe, I leaped!
Now was my moment! I had overcome all the odds, and now, my weapon in hand I prepared to meet my foe!
And then with all my force, I brought my weapon to bear and made him a two-dimensional replica of his former self, as imagined by Picasso. It was a glorious moment, and it was only slightly lessened when I remembered that I was completely nude. (I bet you forgot that too. Kind of makes things weird, huh? Try not to think about too much.) Anyways, I think that's what my primitive ancestors would have wanted. In honor of the moment, I have also christened my shampoo bottle "The Vermin-Crusher." It only seems fitting.
Now, though, with my revenge complete, my life has suddenly become full of doubts. Sure, I killed two earwigs today, but surely they were only the outliers. More will come, and my life has become a paranoid dance. I can't bring myself to trust anymore. If there was an earwig hiding in my underwear, where will the next one be? In the tub? (Yes.) Hiding in my shoe? Heaven forbid, in my own bed!? They say Macbeth got pretty paranoid, but all he had to worry about was being assassinated by his friends and having his country turn on him. I mean, it's not like he was in danger of getting a nasty nip on the toe with a pair of disease covered butt-pinchers! I guess I can take comfort in the thought that if my body is found, covered with pinch marks and sans toes, at least no one will question why I am carrying a shampoo bottle covered with earwig corpses.
P.S. If that happens, I request that at least one you come to venge me. Preferably by donning a sweet mask and training for years in remote monasteries with the worlds foremost experts in shampoo bottle-fu.
P.P.S. It turns out there are more good "Princess Bride" Quotes than I have room for in this post, maybe you should just re-watch the movie. I'm going to.
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