Yesterday I went into my living room and found a hundred thousand million billion ants crawling by the back door. “How did they get in?” you may be wondering. “Why did they come in? What were they doing?”
Who do I look like, the Ant Whisperer? How the hell should I know? I was far more concerned about how I was going to get them out.
“How did you get them out?” you may be wondering.
Good question. Luckily, I had brand-new vacuum cleaner gathering dust in its box. Or, rather, the box was gathering dust. I put it together post haste, and soon there were a hundred thousand million billion very dizzy ants whirling around in its cyclonic suction.
I hate to kill living creatures. The only things I hate more are the Bush administration and the sight of insects lurking where they shouldn’t be (but I repeat myself). For all I knew, the ants in the vacuum weren’t dead, but rather concocting a hundred thousand million billion revenge fantasies as they scoured the vacuum chamber for an escape route. So I ran out to the store to buy ant poison (now with new springtime scent!) and hardwood floor cleaner.
When I got home, there were a hundred thousand million billion ants crawling on the living room floor. I was pretty sure these were different ants, but I couldn’t tell where they were coming from. Once they joined their compatriots in the vacuum cleaner, I scoured the floor and spritzed the cracks with deadly springtime-fresh poison.
I’m not sure I’ve taken care of the problem. These battles tend to escalate, and two hundred thousand million billion ants have had all night to plot their next move. Luckily, I blew my defense budget on Weapons of Mass Ant Destruction (WoMAD).
Bring it on.