Last night, a war was waged.

For the first few hours in bed, I couldn't sleep. My feet, which stuck out a little from the bottom of my comforter, were hot. I kept scratching them, one with the other. Then, as I turned over to my left side, a high-pitched BBBbbBBBBBBBzZZzzZzzZzzz neared my ear... HOLY FRICKIN' MOSQUITO!!!! I was pulled out of my bed, as if awaken by the blast of an air raid siren, and quickly turned on the light. (It's amazing how loudly the fluttering wings of such a small insect can amplify when its at the doorstep of your lughole.) I looked around the room and saw nothing. I looked down at my feet, and saw two bites on my right foot, and two on my left. Damn... so itchy.

A few minutes passed, and there was no sign of the bugger. So, I turned off the lights again, lay my head back down on the pillow. Almost immediately, BBBbbBbbBBbBzzzzzzZZzzZzz!!! Right then and there, I realize that there would be no sleeping tonight until either it or I was dead. Now, he may have had me covered from an elevated position, but I had a sure size and weight advantage, and I was pretty confident I could take him.

So, the lights went on again, and I began combing the room. Finally, I zeroed in on the six-legged vermin stuck upside-down to the ceiling, waiting for another descent. >> SWAP << Too late. The wet towel caught him off-guard. Guess those compound eyes aren't what they're cracked up to be. Chump.

To end my reign of terror, I also squashed a fruit fly I noticed a few ceiling boards over. I was pretty sure I heard him cheering for the mosquito. Punk got what was coming to him.