The Batpo vs the roach

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Last night was seriously dramatic. There I was, cooking my spicy noodles, lost in my own little cookery dream state -- when something moved in the sink . . . . the hugest, most monster-like, genetically-modified giant of a cockroach had crawled out of the plughole.

Its body was easily 2 inches long, so that would be 4 inches including the antennae, and about 1 inch wide. Well, I tried to flush it back down the plughole, but it just sort of stood there, Moses-like, parting the water -- almost like it was enjoying the spa.

I was a screaming heeby-jeeby by now, and it was crawling up the side of the sink. Using my spring onion as a fencing sword, I managed to flick it back down, but it kept on coming back up! I couldn't find any bug spray and I didn't want to leave [well, I did but I couldn't] in case it hid somewhere. So it crawls out of the sink, towards my bowl, over the bowl [ohmigod], out of the bowl [which I have by now thrown away] and flopped towards the cooker. My trustee epee [the spring onion] only managed to stun it, and it crawled under the cooker. But because it was hot, it crawled back out and flopped onto the floor, where I did this funny polka trying to step on it but not quite managing. It then crawled under the plastic bags bag and then scuttled out towards me. WelI, I thought, it's now or never, and I did the deed with a nauseatingly loud crunch.

SO now there was a squished cockroach in the middle of the kitchen floor. Using at least half a roll of toilet paper, the monster roach was removed and flushed out of the house. My stomach acid levels were now seriously high, my new haircut was just another Tina Turner-style afro, and I was so grossed out I wanted to burn my new boots. Plus -- and this was unforgivable -- my noodles/broccoli/veggies were now boiled to a mush. It looked like trail rations.

WHY??? Why do roaches have this vendetta against me -- why do they keep sending their biggest and most resilient macho soldiers out to taunt me? Plus I am sure there are a million of the little blighters waiting in the sidelines for their initiation in instilling fear and paranoia in me. And the thing I hate most is how something as inconsequential as a cockroach can turn me into a screaming drama queen.

Next time I'll tell you about my mini-battles with mosquitoes, which out here in the New Territories are the size of small sparrows . . . . seriously!!!