****roaches. I hate them. I really, really hate them. They are a disgusting and invasive disease vector. Serenity has a thing about paooki, but I have a thing about terrakhani. Maybe it was the weather, maybe they just got a wild hair up their ***, but today those bastards launched a massive, organized infiltration of the apartment.
Occasionally we get one or two of the little buggers in our home. It is something to be expected when living on the ground floor of an old apartment complex with foliage around, and a dumpster within 50 feet. We get about one a month, which I immediately seek out, close with, and destroy by fury and clobbering combat. I usually employ a size 13 M1A2 steel toed combat boot on a 240 pound frame. The ****roaches never win that one.
Today was a massive assault. Instead of the monthly unpleasant suprise, there was close to a dozen infiltrators spotted. First, domestic-6 spotted one in the living room, and called in close spouse support on the little buggers grid coordinates. The lead boot's immpact missed, but the follow boot adjusted of the lead and nailed it. I thought it was a little early since the last one had been spotted and engaged about two weeks ago. Within the next hour, no less than three enemy troops were spotted trying to infiltrate all areas of the home base. All were engaged and killed. Things were getting tense. Another one was spotted by the kitchen area, and was terminated with extreme prejudice. Then I saw it; the hole in the defenses. A little brown carapace crawled under the back door from the rear garage area. "Damn!" I thought, "they are coming in through the motor pool!"
I went on a reconaisance patrol.
It was an ambush. two of them pounced out from under the car, trying to overwhelm me with numbers, and get into the chow hall. There were several seconds of cursing and stomping as I lit those little exoskeletons up.
"Eat boot tread, Mother****ers!" I screamed. I killed one on the concrete, the other one I had to chase down, as it made a break for the pantry.
"You can run, but you will only die tired" I said, as the little brown thing made a satisfying pop under my heel.
I turned back to the carcass on the concrete, and flipped it under the car. I left that carcass there as a warning to the others about their fate if they went any further.
I was starting to get worried. I knew that once night fell, they would have free reign to infiltrate home base under the cover of darkness.
...That, and the fact that I have to sleep sometime.
By now the enemy KIA's were mounting quickly, but I knew that time was not on our side. Neither were the numbers. I left Domestic-6 with orders to observe and report while I went for reinforcements.
I returned with Agent Raid loaded. Time for some chem warfare!
I asked for a report, and in the 15 minutes I had been gone, two enemy units were observed crossing the TAOR (Temporary Area Of Recreation) into forward operating area STUDY and MWR facility BEDROOM.
I would have to flush them out later. First I needed to secure the perimeter.
I opened the hatch to the motor pool, and another enemy combatant came racing at me. This one is brave; he scuttled right past the goo that a few minutes ago was his best friends face. I knew what to do. I fixed the tubular delivery system for accuracy, and reaching into the corners of my agent Raid gun. He raced closer, while I held a steady bead on the little vermin. Once he was about 3" from the muzzle, I sent a little jet of neurotoxic joyjuice his way. The blast of compressed air knocked him back. Then agent Raid started to take effect as he started to list while running away in a very irregular pattern. He went back under the car, and I could hear his little legs kicking out their last.
I saturated the threshold with agent Raid.
Then I started to push them back. I used the little straw to work along the baseboard. There was about a 3/4" crack inder the wall due to the shifting foundation over time. As I worked my way toward the back of the bay, I could see the little buggers come running out when they got hit. I giggled in glee as they popped out of cracks, and from behind storage bins, only to make it a few feet before they flipped onto their backs and started kicking out their last.
I drove my enemies before me like autumn leaves before the wind. It was like Genghis Khan goes Orkin™. After I had driven them out, and placed security layers at the doors, and natural terrain features, I considered getting some toothpicks out, and spiking their dead that they had left on the battlefield on them. That way I could set them up as warnings to the others. I don't care if they are just insects; they have to know what that means.
After I returned to the TAOR, I relaxed. There were still at least two loose in the home base, but I knew those ****s had nowhere to hide, and nothing to live on. It was just a matter of time before they popped their little antenaed heads out, and that would be the last time they did that.
Sure enough, about an hour later, I spot a dark smudge at the corner of the room. Enemy contact. I grab the agent Raid, and light him up. He runs about a foot before he flips onto his back. I finish him off. A little later, another tries to make a break for it. I am all over him like white on rice on a paper plate in the middle of a snowstorm. Squish.
There was a third. I didn't know it until Domestic-6 went to the head. I heard an urgent call for fire support.
The little xeno**** was perched way up high on the wall, motionless. He was probably thinking that we had not noticed him.
Big mistake.
I stayed to track the target while I sent Domestic-6 for agent Raid. She returned, and I loaded up.
Again, I decided to go with the tight sheaf, and lit him up at very close range.
This time it was fun. The bug took off laterally, making a dash along the wall near the ceiling for the ventilation shaft.
"He's running, and he's running..." I said, as he drew near the vent.
But he wasn't close enough, before he could get there, the poison took effect, and he tripped, falling behind the toilet.
".....and he's falling"
The little bugger kept running, this time trying to get past me out of the cramped CQB (Close Quarters- Bathroom) fight.
No dice. I hit him again with some neuron eating bug poison. He flipped onto his back as half of his body tried to right itself.
I watched him die.
I watched him die slowly.
And I grinned.
"That's what happens when you don't pay rent, ****er."
Things are quiet, now. I have neither heard nor seen any enemy activity since I chemically scorched the earth to arthropods. I think it is time to get some rest. I think I have over a dozen confirmed kills tonight. Twelve little Corrie-esque ****roaches wrapped in individuals paper towels (hey, I had to clean it up; it was nasty) tossed into the trash.
This raid stuff is supposedly good for 6 months.
We will see.
I have plenty more where that came from.
Occasionally we get one or two of the little buggers in our home. It is something to be expected when living on the ground floor of an old apartment complex with foliage around, and a dumpster within 50 feet. We get about one a month, which I immediately seek out, close with, and destroy by fury and clobbering combat. I usually employ a size 13 M1A2 steel toed combat boot on a 240 pound frame. The ****roaches never win that one.
Today was a massive assault. Instead of the monthly unpleasant suprise, there was close to a dozen infiltrators spotted. First, domestic-6 spotted one in the living room, and called in close spouse support on the little buggers grid coordinates. The lead boot's immpact missed, but the follow boot adjusted of the lead and nailed it. I thought it was a little early since the last one had been spotted and engaged about two weeks ago. Within the next hour, no less than three enemy troops were spotted trying to infiltrate all areas of the home base. All were engaged and killed. Things were getting tense. Another one was spotted by the kitchen area, and was terminated with extreme prejudice. Then I saw it; the hole in the defenses. A little brown carapace crawled under the back door from the rear garage area. "Damn!" I thought, "they are coming in through the motor pool!"
I went on a reconaisance patrol.
It was an ambush. two of them pounced out from under the car, trying to overwhelm me with numbers, and get into the chow hall. There were several seconds of cursing and stomping as I lit those little exoskeletons up.
"Eat boot tread, Mother****ers!" I screamed. I killed one on the concrete, the other one I had to chase down, as it made a break for the pantry.
"You can run, but you will only die tired" I said, as the little brown thing made a satisfying pop under my heel.
I turned back to the carcass on the concrete, and flipped it under the car. I left that carcass there as a warning to the others about their fate if they went any further.
I was starting to get worried. I knew that once night fell, they would have free reign to infiltrate home base under the cover of darkness.
...That, and the fact that I have to sleep sometime.
By now the enemy KIA's were mounting quickly, but I knew that time was not on our side. Neither were the numbers. I left Domestic-6 with orders to observe and report while I went for reinforcements.
I returned with Agent Raid loaded. Time for some chem warfare!
I asked for a report, and in the 15 minutes I had been gone, two enemy units were observed crossing the TAOR (Temporary Area Of Recreation) into forward operating area STUDY and MWR facility BEDROOM.
I would have to flush them out later. First I needed to secure the perimeter.
I opened the hatch to the motor pool, and another enemy combatant came racing at me. This one is brave; he scuttled right past the goo that a few minutes ago was his best friends face. I knew what to do. I fixed the tubular delivery system for accuracy, and reaching into the corners of my agent Raid gun. He raced closer, while I held a steady bead on the little vermin. Once he was about 3" from the muzzle, I sent a little jet of neurotoxic joyjuice his way. The blast of compressed air knocked him back. Then agent Raid started to take effect as he started to list while running away in a very irregular pattern. He went back under the car, and I could hear his little legs kicking out their last.
I saturated the threshold with agent Raid.
Then I started to push them back. I used the little straw to work along the baseboard. There was about a 3/4" crack inder the wall due to the shifting foundation over time. As I worked my way toward the back of the bay, I could see the little buggers come running out when they got hit. I giggled in glee as they popped out of cracks, and from behind storage bins, only to make it a few feet before they flipped onto their backs and started kicking out their last.
I drove my enemies before me like autumn leaves before the wind. It was like Genghis Khan goes Orkin™. After I had driven them out, and placed security layers at the doors, and natural terrain features, I considered getting some toothpicks out, and spiking their dead that they had left on the battlefield on them. That way I could set them up as warnings to the others. I don't care if they are just insects; they have to know what that means.
After I returned to the TAOR, I relaxed. There were still at least two loose in the home base, but I knew those ****s had nowhere to hide, and nothing to live on. It was just a matter of time before they popped their little antenaed heads out, and that would be the last time they did that.
Sure enough, about an hour later, I spot a dark smudge at the corner of the room. Enemy contact. I grab the agent Raid, and light him up. He runs about a foot before he flips onto his back. I finish him off. A little later, another tries to make a break for it. I am all over him like white on rice on a paper plate in the middle of a snowstorm. Squish.
There was a third. I didn't know it until Domestic-6 went to the head. I heard an urgent call for fire support.
The little xeno**** was perched way up high on the wall, motionless. He was probably thinking that we had not noticed him.
Big mistake.
I stayed to track the target while I sent Domestic-6 for agent Raid. She returned, and I loaded up.
Again, I decided to go with the tight sheaf, and lit him up at very close range.
This time it was fun. The bug took off laterally, making a dash along the wall near the ceiling for the ventilation shaft.
"He's running, and he's running..." I said, as he drew near the vent.
But he wasn't close enough, before he could get there, the poison took effect, and he tripped, falling behind the toilet.
".....and he's falling"
The little bugger kept running, this time trying to get past me out of the cramped CQB (Close Quarters- Bathroom) fight.
No dice. I hit him again with some neuron eating bug poison. He flipped onto his back as half of his body tried to right itself.
I watched him die.
I watched him die slowly.
And I grinned.
"That's what happens when you don't pay rent, ****er."
Things are quiet, now. I have neither heard nor seen any enemy activity since I chemically scorched the earth to arthropods. I think it is time to get some rest. I think I have over a dozen confirmed kills tonight. Twelve little Corrie-esque ****roaches wrapped in individuals paper towels (hey, I had to clean it up; it was nasty) tossed into the trash.
This raid stuff is supposedly good for 6 months.
We will see.
I have plenty more where that came from.
