Moby Centipede

A week ago there was a gigantic centipede taunting me from the ceiling, but I was having a Rolling Stones underwear dance party so I couldn't be bothered to kill it. By the time I was done, the centipede had stopped peeping at me and gone back into hiding. I have been trying desperately for these past few days not to think of it predating the corners of my quaint apartment while I sleep.

Tonight, it returned: (Actual size of insect = approximately 2 inches)



You'll be pleased to know that I didn't even scream when I saw it. I let out a cry of outrage that it would dare flaunt its vulnerable position (an obvious insult to my integrity as an insect assassin) and aspirated it to the oblivions in my vacuum cleaner. Centipedes are predators, but I think this victory over arthropoda reiterates that I am a more accomplished predator than most natural things. TRY ME.