She sang into the night, swinging violently at the insect.

This story is basted on actual events that happened july, 24,2009 at 12:30 am in my kitchen before my very eyes.


Let me set the scene; it was about 12:30 in the morn. She entered the kitchen wearing nothing but her underwear whilist holding a bottle of peroxide and a can of chicken. It dived bombed as if from no where (although I do suspect he came from the deck where the door was ajar.) She raised her can and bottle above her head to help shield her from the disgusting creature, then preceded to pick up a Tupperware lid and shouting "**** you, Moth!" as she batted at the pest. However her efforts were in vain, as the Moth had the last laugh, evading her swats with gusto (even as we speak he dances merrily about the ceiling light, almost as if mocking our very existence). She awaits the day they cross paths again, and perhaps then she'll be prepared....