I've been struggling for a few days now, trying to come up with a clever or humorous way to share the last few chapters in the saga of Herpes the Cockroach. (If you haven't already done so, be sure to read the introduction and the story of the capture.) Alas, my skills as a storyteller are lacking, and this seems to be one of those things that is most memorable for those of us who had to stand in the same room as this creature.
Thursday night, I wandered over toward Club in search of some brave men to help me in the torture and killing of Herpes. A few minutes later, I walked back to my room with Pimp, Cooley, and Danielpants, all of whom neglected to tell me that they are bigger cowards around cockroaches than I am.
Herpes had been sitting on my floor under a styrofoam bowl for several days at this point. Surrounding his polystyrene home was a tupperware container to ensure that he could not escape, even if he did manage to eat his way through the styrofoam. Now, if he managed to construct a small bomb to blast his way through the bowl, I can't foresee the tupperware being of much use.
Anyway, my original plan was to remove Herpes from my room before burning him, but Cooley and Danielpants refused to tag along unless I consented to skipping the torture part. Pimp was instructed to slide a piece of paper under the bowl so that Cooley could jump on the whole thing and yet still spare my carpet from ooze and guts. However, after Pimp had the sheet of paper under the bowl, he grabbed for the edges of the bowl and the paper and attempted to lift this from the floor.
From this point forward, events unfolded in slow motion.
A small gap emerged between the styrofoam bowl and the piece of paper. I saw this and began shrieking, asking Pimp what he was doing and demanding that he return the whole thing to the ground.
Because of the slow motion effect, my words didn't reach his ears in time.
He began flipping the bowl over very cautiously. His cowardice radiated throughout the room.
My jaw dropped.
Herpes the Cockroach donned his favorite cape and launched himself from the bowl, through the ever-widening gap, and flew defiantly across my room, landing with a maniacal laugh upon my bed.
No longer were things happening in slow motion. Instead, everything began happening too quickly. I couldn't stop Pimp from screeching like a woman. I couldn't stop him from shaking my comforter violently in what I can only assume was an attempt to aid Herpes in escaping faster, for that is exactly what happened. I couldn't stop Herpes from dashing under the leaping feet of my friends as he rejoiced in his newfound freedom.
I couldn't do anything but blink my eyes in astonishment.
The boys all took turns playing hide-and-seek with Herpes, but none of them could keep from jumping long enough to actually capture him again. Finally, the devilish cockroach took off at sixty mile per hour toward Pimp's feet, pausing only long enough to make several complicated turns on the carpet before wandering toward me. His dilly-dallying cost him his life, as I successfully trapped beneath yet another styrofoam bowl (best investment of the semester by far).
This time, no mistakes were to be made. The paper was slipped beneath the bowl. Cooley jumped with all his might upon it. Herpes breathed his last.
Just kidding. Herpes survived the impact, though his head was no longer attached to his body. Thankfully, enough of his body had been damaged that he couldn't just walk off the paper and run blindly toward my leg, which I'm sure he would still somehow devour even without a head.
The boys no longer protested when I suggested that we end the night by burning the remains outside in the courtyard in front of my dorm building. We scooped up the bowl and the paper and the writhing body and walked boldly outside, thrusting everything upon the ground with anger and victorious pride.
I regret to inform you that this is all that remains of Herpes the Cockroach. He lived a horrid life, too much of which was spent terrorizing me in my room. The kingly death he experienced was more than he deserved, and I do not hesitate to say that I am not at all sorry to see him go.
Goodbye, dear Herpes. And good riddance.