Flying Bastard

“Get away from me. I don’t want to cut you” I say to my love as I manically wave my 6 inch blade around. I’m panicking, and sweating, and almost naked, but I know that worse times are soon to come. A beast has invaded my home. It has terrified my woman. It has left me with a life or death decision. I open the door and face my enemy.

I can’t see it
But I can feel it
I can hear it
I can fear it

It flies at me and I scream with all the horror and rage I can muster. I sound like a little girl. The girl cowering behind me strengthens my resolve to not be defeated. To not let this mythical enemy get the upper hand. So I re-enter the room and search so I can destroy. It is not there. Not gone but hidden.

I hear the buzz
I feel the fear
It must be here
It must be near

In the light it stands. It burns. It dies. So drawn to the holy bright that it fears not for its own safety until it is too late. It gets trapped by the light and melts away its fear and flesh until it moves no more. All that is left for me to do it stab it and claim its death as my own. So I do and scream and laugh and shake until we have disposed of its body and are safe once more.

Just before midnight, when you’re a bit mashed, sleepy and relaxed, the last thing you want is for a Maybug to fly into your room and freak out you and your girlfriend.