A Bee’s Nest? I Can Beat That!

After yesterday’s (or today’s, depending on where you’re from) horrifying news that there is a bees nest (I would say it was a wasp nest, but I’m no expert) right by Vanna’s car, I bring a far more chilling story to the table (imagine we are in a tavern, sharing stories over tankards of beer; I am the man who comes in, with a haunted look in his eyes and a burden to share).

In our kitchen, a beast has taken residence (no, I don’t mean Splat). It strikes fear into the hearts of even the strongest of men (and women; I bet Boadicea wouldn’t have been anywhere near as triumphant had she ran into this thing on her way to war), and there is great trepidation for the battle ahead.  Many believe (myself included) that there will be bloodshed. Lots of it. Why? Because the beast is dangerous! The beast is evil incarnate! The beast is…

The beast is a shrew.

I know. I know. It is only a small one, but still, we are facing a very formidable foe. There is a chance we won’t make it out alive. But we have to try. Otherwise it will grow only stronger, and eventually, it will be powerful enough to take over the world. We’re doing this for you, people. After we slay the beast, sing songs of our bravery to your children, and your children’s children, so we are never forgotten. It is the least you can do.

So, what is our plan of action? We have bought a trap* to ensnare the beast. But do not underestimate this challenge. The shrew is devious (fiendishly clever, one might say), and will not succumb easily to our trap. And this is where it gets dangerous.  To lure him in, to make him emerge from his lair, we might have to sacrifices ourselves. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that (but it probably will).

And that is our tale. I must go now, and prepare.

Wish us luck,

Alex

P.S And if this is the last post I write…well, we had a good run. It was nice knowing you all.

 

 

 

 

 

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* Don’t worry, it is actually a humane trap. We’ll probably grab it and just let it free outside. And if you are wondering why we even bought a trap when we have a cat in the house, the simple truth is that the shrew is hiding in a place where Splatty’s paws can’t reach.

Also, she wasn’t interested in it whatsoever. Saw it, but didn’t move from her chair. Too comfortable, you see. Instead, she Just watched it scurry across the floor. Sue coaxed her towards the shrew’s location, but nope. Splat is not a very impressive predator. Clearly we need to feed her less. Humph.

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