Halloween time brings the annual hoard of
biting orange-caped invaders.
Asian Lady Bugs. Each one of these darkly-spotted be-devils is hell-bent
bloody little fangs deeply into the soft underbelly of my bared neck.
Arrrrgh! what's a body to do? Here I am, minding
my own business when an
armored Jelly Belly bean-sized Dracula comes out of the
blue and bites at
my throat. Another, then another, and then more beetles come
crawling, stinging, swarming. Poison? Infection? Infestation!
Alien invasion! An enemy plot? Gimme' some spray!
Duct tape the
Smoosh and cover. Nowhere to go, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
This could be a very scary movie.
Inside the house, surveying the room, I spy more of them--
curtains, the walls, in the sink. How did they get past the screens?
Do I have cracks in
my armor? Plug the holes in the dikes. Time to start sucking bugs.
Outside the window the air is thick with legions of the orange-armored vampires.
Is this a Jeff Daniel's flick? My own version of an insect-a-phobia story?
Invasion of the Beetle Snatchers? Beetle-Juiced?
All I need now is a hefty old John Goodman
to my rescue with those spanking
tanks of beetle-splitting juice strapped to his back and a pair of
twirling on his chubby, sausaged fingertips. Ffrriittzzzz!,
The blood-sucking bugs buzz, land and stick like mobilized crazy
glue on any
surface-- walls, ceilings, golf balls, especially skin. If its skin, they're in.
Try flicking one off with you finger and they just flit away
as if to say
"Thanks for the boost!" Smash one between your fingernails and it smells like
pulled carrot tops. Watch out though, That jaundiced juice stains...
...Crikies! ...one's crawling up inside my pants...