Replying to Horror

I warn you, this note is not for the faint of heart. If you frighten by anything less than a full-on dinosaur attck, or have any sort of weak stomach, this gruesome account may not be for you. On this quiet friday evening, I was merely planning on eating for a few hours and getting to sleep early, awaiting a good start on tomorrow's adventure. However, I forgot about my appointment with destiny. Theyve been coming in for years. Mocking my very reality and mediated lighting. Tonite they tried to put an end to my existence. This is my story. As I wrapped up the evening, merely munching on some scruptulous blueberries, i decided that the time was right for an early retirement. I strolled across the kitchen, and went to turn off the hall lights. Upon my re-entry, a flutter caught my eye, and in mongoose-like speed and reflexes, I managed to knock the offensive body out the the air directly to the ground, where it was stunned. It appeared that there was soon to be a moth rebellion in my very home. Quickly disposing of the body, i turned to notice yet another belligerent flier crashing haphazardly around the kitchen. There is no way to describe the fear ensued by the dull thuds of a flying creature attempting to bring down the walls of your home. A few karate chops proved to be vain efforts, and soon the rebel was joined by two accompanying fighters. Fighting for my very life i waved, wailed, and fled the scene. But I would return. A mere 5 second later, i came out, brandishing my 43cm white John Deere fly swatter. It was a good day to die. After a duel for the ages, sporting a newly strained side muscle, I managed to swat one to the ground, where he was decapitated unceremoniously. I chased another into the recycle bin where he was crushed, and cornered the last by a flower pot, leaving him cleaved in two. Hoping I had crushed the rebellion at the bud, I emerged from the battle scene with a newfound hope. However, this brave new world seems to be too small for a coexisting utopia. Upon entry into the living room, I was encouted by insurgents from all walls. They were swarming the lamps, sniping from the walls, offending from the ceilings with the very existence of their bodies. Weilding my sword of destiny I attacked with every ounce of might I had. numbering in the tens, they swooped, swerved and divebombed me. Twice I had to dodge to avoid a direct kamikaze attacks on my mouth. Using all my cunning, I managed to sweep the house of the main insurgents. But this was no fight to be won or lost. Genocide was imminent. I raced from room to room, squelching the young, torturing the immobile. I am not proud of my actions tonite. I watched, as a moth, whom I had earlier sniped from the wall with a rubber band and followed up by squeezing out its guts in a yellow blob, crawled up the wall helpless, and hopeless for survival. The taste of blood was on my lips though, and I smashed its very existence in a blur of plastic and sheetrock. Excuses cannot be made for actions took on this forsaken night. I fought for the safety and wellbeing of my family, self, and religion. We cannot allow these inferior species to infiltrate the houses of our youth. It may be dirty, and horrible to bear, but it is the burden i must shoulder daily. The life of a moth hunter.