WWIII

Long day Friday. Supposed to dance with KR, but we both decided cancel would be better. Get home around 11. Gotta be up at 430am. Road trip in the morning. Clean sheets. Pack. Go to bed. Something on my head. Stray hair on my arm. What the fuck? Roach jumping from my arm to my bed. Running around and around. On my pillow. Under my sheets. On the headboard. Whap!! Fucking bastard, DIE!! Near miss, got it's hind. Runs behind my bed. Shaking and breathing hard. Holy fucking shit, what is flying at my head? It's a moth, it's a duck....it's the roach, coming in for the kill. Kamikaze stylie. I duck. It misses. Lands in the bathroom for refuel. My Flip Flop Fleet is already engaged. Bombs away. So long sucker. Still shaking. HE calls. Talking Talking Talking. Some story about a friend who fucked a local rock star in my bed 8 years ago. Holy shit, rebirth. On the door. No it's still on the bathroom floor. Another? God no!! It prepares to take flight, but my FFF is on it. Bam.Bam.Bam. Falls to the ground and before it can be taken hostage, it flees. Jesus Christ, there is a third.....and a forth. HE is still on the phone. Get the Raid HE says, you deserve this for kicking me out HE says, no one will help you now HE says. Hang up. I don't need this. Hysteria. Short breath, crying, shaking uncontrollable, pacing in small well lit square in living room. Call D. She will save me. Just keep me company while I wait out the attack. They must give up sometime. Surrender mutha fuckers, I yell. K, my sis, comes home. She has to pee. Don't go in there I yell. What the hell is in there, what did you do? Why are you hysterical? Roaches. A whole platoon. They sent one on recon and I killed it and they all came to kill me. She pees upstairs. D insists on talking to K. D wakes V. He's on his way. She's on hers. K reassures D that the pilot that started the attack was GINORMOUS!! Back up is on it's way. In the meantime, K and I are gearing up for the fight of our lives. There's one. Thwack!! The one I raided is twitching in the sink. Three down. Twelve to go. Fresh troops. V arrives. He's armed....with a candy cane? Well, moral support then. D walks in. Business casual in her jammies, killing machine flip flops and no bra. The hunt begins. By 2 a.m., the battle is over. Nine of their men were lost in battle. Three of ours lost sleep, but thank goddess, we walk away with our lives. K in bed. V and D go home. I try to sleep, but I now I suffer from PTSD. The battle is over, but the war is just beginning. Look out world. A sewer by you could be bombed at any time. Plug your sinks and tubs, close your outside doors, buy a cat (get it fixed), and arm yourself with bug killer. IT'S ON!!