Sunday, October 6, 2013

Stink Bug Sadist

So like, Kentucky has these Stink Bugs, right? Little shield-shaped fuckers designed to just not really do anything and be annoying due to their sheer volume. Oregon has them, but nowhere near the fuck tons that Kentucky does. It's fucking annoying. At any given point and time there's at least one on my blinds, hovering over my head, waiting to drop down on my face and scare the literal shit out of me.

Anyways, I saw one of these little shit bags just, like, chillin' on my blinds, same as always, and I decided to get rid of him. I didn't want to kill him, partly because I'm a kind soul, mostly because I didn't want him to stink bug all over me. My bedroom has storm windows, so I basically have two sets of glass separated by about a 2" gap between them. Only one one window though, 'cause apparently fuck storms for the other one. But whatever, I decide to push him out the window that doesn't have two pane of glass so he can fly away and do whatever these little shits do. Whatever. Anyways, I slowly raise part of the blinds (being very careful not to dislodge the little guy) and open my window. Phase 1 accomplished. 

Phase 2 didn't go as well as planned. I gently shook the blinds while holding a piece of paper below him, hoping to push him out the now open window. However, these guys didn't scramble to the top of the food chain by being the smartest little buggers (hehe), in fact, they're nowhere near the top of the foodchain at all. He loses his grip on the blinds, falls, bounces off the piece of paper and falls on his back just outside the window. Whatever, job done, he can figure out how to get up on his own. As I begin to slide the window shut, (his six little legs flailing frantically in what can only be waves stark bug terror and panic,) I realize that not only have I shooed him out the window that he CAN'T escape from (read: he is now between two panes of glass with no hope of escape), but as the window snaps shut a gigantic spider pounces down on him with venomous passion. Thankfully, I didn't see what happened next. 

Instead of mourning for his untimely death, I laughed. Chortled, even.


Little fucker shouldn't have been in my room.


UPDATE: I just raised my blinds to watch the rain. I can see his little web-spun carcass hanging by the spider--some kind of horrific dead bug trophy. I slowly lowered my blinds and tried not to think about what I've become.