The Wasp

I was sitting in my study playing my favorite video game, when a wasp landed on my window screen. This screen has a three-inch long slit that is less than a half-inch wide. The wasp landed right on the bottom lip of the gap and stuck it's head in to look around.

I reached over to flick it on the head, but before I could, it stepped into the house as if the slit was an open invitation.

Not wanting to take my eyes off it, I yelled for Hanna to "grab the flyswatter...and the RAID." Then when she didn't show up within 5 seconds, I yelled for her to hurry. The wasp buzzed angrily in my general direction, no doubt planning what patch of skin would be the best place to holster it's stinger.

Hanna came rushing in like an angel of death or, more accurately, the assistant to the angel of death who carries the angel's scythe for him. She handed me the death implements. I turned and fired the RAID spray at point-blank range at the wasp. It began to buzz in ever increasing panic as the poison set in. Still, I was not satisfied because I have seen wasps shake off the spray and fly off. So I hit it hard with the swatter, cracking it against the screen. It fluttered to the windowsill but amazingly was still walking around. So I doused it with more of the spray, thinking that the poison now had a chance to penetrate through the cracks in the fiend's armor. Then I gave it one last clubbing for good measure.

As I stood there, basking in my victorious achievement, I thought about the movie Grosse Pointe Blank and how similar my situation was to when Martin Blank shot a guy (who was trying to kill him) and clubbed him with a frying pan, then shot him again and clubbed him again just to make sure - except that my gun was a can of RAID and my frying pan was a flyswatter.