Mosquitoes? May they all burn. Wasps? I wish them to drop dead. Spiders? As long as you aren’t bigger than my thumbnail I shall be merciful and allow you clearance to eat as many mosquitoes as you please.
Yes, I cannot stand these three. I squeal whenever I see a wasp or hornet in my room and they are worse when I’m sitting on the toilet, minding my business, and all of a sudden; the buzzing of doom. You may ask, “What’s the bother? Just get it out and you’ll be fine.” Oh no, no I beg to differ. I am convinced that all three of these bastards are out to get me, particularly the wasp. You see, my bathroom has been marked and they have been blacklisted. Every summer the wasps set up their bases strategically around my house. They find the crevices, the corners, all the nooks and crannies without tiring. I have been their sworn enemy before the beginning of time. A little dramatic this may be for you, but I’m telling that this is war and there will be no end. For the wasp, the usual plan is:
- Locate the enemy.
- Affirm target.
- Ready the vacuum cleaner and stay your ground.
- Have target on lock and engage until they swirl into the dark abyss of reality.
- Celebrate that, while you may have wet yourself and hid multiple times cowering in fear, you have successfully displayed the dominion of man over the creatures of the land.
Mosquitoes on the other hand don’t require as much careful attention. It’s quite simple, really. Just listen, wait, and slaughter. But amidst this process, I find there are two different kinds of people: the ones who, once have terminated their target, dispose of the body and leave no traces of the bloodbath or those who are more…sadistic, I shall say, in nature. I prefer shedding their blood, though the crimson I see is probably mine, clearly on the wall as a display. I wish to have their corpse for all mosquitoes to see and tremble in fear that there is one that will find them, and will kill them without fail.
I wish to ask you this: are you the disposer or the poser? Do you let others know how much pain you’ve inflicted or do you dial it down, hoping no one will notice the stains on your hands? Do you even know yourself or the people around you? Or perhaps…have we all gone mad?