A Day With My Nemeses
December 9, 2011 § Leave a comment
It was a packed house, yet you could see more of them slithering in, even though they knew they had little to no chance of seeing any action. Many others had scaled the outside walls and were pressed firmly against the glass window. I didn’t think I’d seen so many in one place, nor imagined there existed this much in so many shapes and sizes, and colors. I could feel their large fright-filled beady eyes affixed firmly on me. But this was definitely no place to entertain any of the devilish fantasies that seemed to have had an endless stream inside what now seemed a twisted sociopathic mind. I was in the hot seat, and thanks to the gawkers pressed against the window and a very packed house, my normal struggles with sweating (which was now like rapids streaming from my forehead) had me looking guilty before a word of the hearing had been uttered.
Witness after witness assumed a podium next to this very fat one- a volcanic black Boss Tweed lookalike- to give harrowing accounts of the heinous crimes I had inflicted upon them and their loved ones. I was on trial for crimes against the fifty-or-so geckos I’ve killed so far. Yes, I too, had chuckled a bit when those words had been ushered at beginning of this show, but I wasn’t laughing now. I had killed moms, dads, and chased families around my house showing no mercy for any of my victims. I had even led a few to commit suicide, although I strongly objected to that assertion, but that seemed to anger my already bloodthirsty mob. They had watched quietly since my arrival how I’d wiped out the cockroaches, spiders, ants, fruit flies, and even the mosquitoes. Some even attested to how I’d wait with uncanny patience whetting my murderous appetite with my weapon of choice (a broom) as a frightened family found itself stuck inside my kitchen cupboard.
In no short time, a guilty verdict had been rendered. It was a show trial no different than that which Saddam faced. The only problem here was what to do with me. They got what they wanted, but what do you do with the person you fear the most, especially when you’re cowardly by nature? As I waited for them to decide my fate, I dosed off. I then heard an unmistakable whiny-buzz around my left ear. I can’t tell you how much I hate this sound. If I ever fall into a coma or any condition where I’m rendered unconscious, this sound will definitely wake me up! I have a visceral hatred for mosquitoes. Forget the bites; it’s the sound they make that drives me nuts.
I was immediate jolted up and out of a cold, sweaty sleep. I wasn’t in any town hall with any gecko lynch mob. I had been dreaming. The rapid stream of sweat had been real, though. The area around my upper half was wet from sweat even though I sleep in next to nothing thanks to the heat (and a faulty fan motor). The whiny buzz returned, immediately followed by an innate reflexive fling of the shirt next to my remote. I was definitely up now, and quickly sat up in bed. I had killed it! This was pure luck. Usually I stalk them or lay in wait for them to fall into my trap. I can’t tell you how much delight I take in killing mosquitoes. If you lived here, you’d feel the same way. I reached back for the remote only to find a brown 3-inch gecko frozen on my mattress. Whack!! This time, I used a broom next to my bed. Those things die very fast. A quick brush off my bed and it’s back to the remote. After a few flips through the channels, I settled on Al Jazeera. I’m still too worn out to do anything. So I shifted to the dry half of the bed, covered my head with the pillow, and went searching for another dream with talk of Syria and the Arab League as soothing sounds.