Small-Scale Genocide

Lately, I’ve discovered that the total extermination of a population is harder than it looks. Over the past few weeks, my apartment has become the red light district of the ant world, and the six-legged scavengers are hellbent on evicting me so’s they could turn the place into their bohemian den of wily insect love. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to get rid of all the little bastards. I’ve gone through three different poison baits in the same amount of weeks, and the hillbilly at the hardware store finally suggested I upgrade to an assault rifle. Everyone’s a fucking comedian. So, there I was, twenty dollars later, having gone through enough poison to throw a party in Jonestown, and I still had ants. They were evolving, growing poison resistant.

Luckily, I’m a resourceful guy, and never one to be bested by a lower rung of the food chain, so I turned to a more natural solution. I abducted borrowed nine Silky Anteaters from the Lincoln Park Zoo. Turns out, anteaters are only docile and cuddly until they eat poison-mutated ants. While they solved my ant problem, they also became crazed, burrowed through my living room wall and devoured my neighbor. When I found him, the formerly fat man had been deflated like a fleshy balloon. Well, shit. I was able to bash the brains out of one of the carnivorous anteaters, but once again, I was outgunned.

I made another trip to the zoo, and when I returned, the mutant anteaters had eaten three more neighbors in the building, including poor Mr. Yojiwa and his farty chihuahua. Fortunately, I came bearing vengeance. I came bearing…well, a bear. A Brown Bear, to be exact (no small feat in a compact car, mind you). I was a little worried when Winnie the Pooh didn’t come with his game face on, but eventually an anteater tried to probe his cornhole and the bear did his rampage thing.

As it turns out, my landlord was some kind of Romanian Bear Whisperer back in the Motherland and found himself a new pet. He was sort of pissed that he had to re-list the apartments, but at least he didn’t have to return any security deposits to the deceased. And I had no more ants. Score.

Cheers!

-brandon

Beer: Metropolitan Flywheel

Music: Coheed and Cambria