"working on my faults and cracks..."


Mukade: 100 legs of pure fear

Let me get one thing straight.

In non-video gaming contexts, I have fearlessly battled all manners of pesky vermin--snakes, spiders, mice, bees... even the elusive mice riding on snakes shooting bees out of their mouths... --all undisputed conquests over an equally exhaustive bestiary. But there is still one creature so vile, so repugnant, with whom I refuse to even contemplate stepping into the arena.


Hit me with a thesaurus, but "hate" and any one of its many semantic variants, is hardly strong enough to begin description.
Like the wizard whose name could not be spoken in that movie whose existence I refuse to acknowledge, just the very thought of these creatures outside the confines of a two-dimensional shooter is nauseating at best.
Encounters in the wild are considered extremely unlucky. Even unluckier if I am without a semiautomatic. So you can imagine that I found it only slightly luckier, that someone had already fought it, and luckier still that they had managed to emerge victorious:

Rest in piece(s) **

Little Michigan woodland centipedes these are not. Brilliant of me to move to Asia--home to the biggest, blackest, ugliest, and shit-your-pants nastiest (NSFW if your barf bucket is more than 10 feet from your desk) centipedes on the face of this planet. Wait, on second thought, don't click the link. Too late. You already did, didn't you?
Dear god, if only it weren't true.

Granted, while certain Australian, Amazonian, and King Kong's Skull Island species may grow even larger, these actu--, wait a second. I'm rationalizing. No. There is simply no rational justification for a centipede that cannot fit comfortably under the heel of my Doc Martins. Had this been the steps to my own porch, I would have screamed like a bitch and hog-dashed to the nearest Koban to borrow a tactical shotgun and a riot shield. However, had this been the steps to my neighbor's porch, I would have run downstairs and taken his sweet bike, because lord knows the poor bastard wouldn't be needing it anymore.
Thankfully, these were in fact the steps of my school, and the photo was captured with my telephoto lens three stories up, and 50 yards away.
Ok, not true.

I made one of the second-grade girls snap the close-up with my cell phone.

Anything to help her grade.

** Measuring in at only 4 or 5 inches long, he was just a wee bugger...in a better life.

13 contributions to this piece:

Sarah said...

My friend Michelle had a pair of those in her apartment last year or the year before. One actually bit her, but it was small so it only itched like a bitch. She smashed it with her shoe for like 5 minutes, left the shoe on it, got ready for work, then it moved when she took the shoe off to put it back on. I think she managed to catch it in some paper, then threw it in a garbage bag which she promptly tied up. It was still strong enough to make the bag thrash.

Those are some mean motherfuckers.

Dagbert said...

I don't like your story very much.
Mostly because I don't want to hear that they can't be killed by conventional means.

Anonymous said...

rofl, good job sarah

Sarah said...

I've heard several theories on how to kill them, including boiling the fuckers to death.

Michelle swears by the special bug spray for them, though.

Valerie said...

So...basically...an 8 year old girl is a bigger man than you...?

Dagbert said...

No, she's actually a much smaller man. Only about 4-10 in shoes.

Brast said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Brast said...

Indeed. You know what , sleep has just left me for some last month of the year mid-night ritual, where all sleeps (in the real, they look like hooded walking shadows that limp on every 3rd step) assemble and makes jests about their accomplishments through out the year, how they've succeded in depriving a select number of persons of them for reasons such as : rape (through extensive use of vallium , neglect (through extensive use of caffeine). Im Guilty of the latter, hence this chronic insomnia. On a more bug-y note, there are these tiny little creppies i usually find under cut tree branches/ cold woods. They are faintly grey in colour and on sight, they roll into a tiny ball and remain still as though they had suddenly died. Whats really depressing about this almost-centipedes is that no matter how much you try to sqaush , they just keep rolling into themselves so much that they become almost invisible and then somehow fade into the ground. (More like a kamoflage effect) those little cunts, i totaly resent.

Kimbrolynn said...

Rollie pollies are the shit.
Centipedes are not.
El fin.

Dagbert said...

The comment bar has just been raised.

Game, set, match:
Mr(s) Brast

Zach said...

Brevity is the essence of wit.

Kimbrolynn nails that one, but of course you get the final say on whats a good comment :P

Dagbert said...

Very true.

Simple, and straight to the point.
Always a sense of finality to kimbrolynn's comments.

Kimbrolynn said...

Point! Haha... look what you've done ;)

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