Inspired by the WordPress Prompt
Locked or in this case STUCK!
Attempted Murder, A Toaster, and Six Ugly Legs
I awoke this morning in my usual fashion-barely able to balance on my feet-stagger, stagger-rubbing my eyes to achieve some kind of focus, grumpy that I was required to exit my bed at all and with a solid plan to avoid anything that resembled a human in case they attacked me with jobs and just stuff, during grump hour.
The kettle was there, waiting for me-same place as yesterday…and the day before…to assist me in dragging myself out of slumber, and into the day ahead. As I approached it, I was given an almighty jab of adrenaline when sitting casually in front of me, spread out completely relaxed on his banana lounge it would seem, was a King cockroach.
Now when I say King Cockroach, I mean King Cockroach. The half bug half cow variety, have you seen those? The feral thing was playing around with its feelers and sussing out my Kitchen bench.
As I knew the littlest kid was up, I proceeded to yell.
The response, no more than a grunt, was not promising. I didn’t muck around and ran into the lounge room.
“Xav, please come and kill this cockroach”
He looked at me as if it was way too much to ask of him, but decided to assist all the same.
“Oh, that’s disgusting” he said
“You’re telling me. Get him”
I’m not sure what he did next, but it resembled a stiff piece of plank, edging it’s way, less than a millimetre closer and launching a hand towel at it.
“What are you doing? It’ll run away, you’ve got to squash it.
He stood frozen for a second, staring at the creature, and was absolutely no help to me whatsoever.
As I was about to grab the other child, Xavier screamed…
“He’s run into the toaster”
“Oh good God” I blasphemed.
“I have no time, and now the thing has made home in the toaster…I need to cook my toast”
“Well I can’t get him now, he’s in the toaster” -and just like that he wondered off, unfussed.
I immediately skipped plan B- grab the second kid-and implemented Plan C-out came the big guns.
Now Michael was out walking the dog, wasn’t he. Typical, although, strangely he replied.
He was outside.
I bolted out the door.
“There’s a cockroach in the toaster, and I’m hungry. Please can you get it out?”
“Are you sure?” He questioned
“Yes, We saw him run in there”
Twenty minutes later, after thoroughly inspecting the item, bashing it on the grass outside, pulling it apart, and staring at it for ages, Michael looked at me.
“It’s not in there”
…and then we heard it. It was wriggling around inside.
“Told you” I said.
Michael thought for a bit.
“Let’s cook it”
“Noooooooo! Oh that’s gross. I’ll never eat toast out of it again. That’s disgusting” I could literally feel my stomach churn at the thought of toasted cockroach.
He pushed down the lever and the toaster began to glow.
I couldn’t stand it, so I left the room, but the burning smell was evident.
“Oh geez Michael are you serious?”
TEN MINUTES LATER
“Did you get him out?”
“Yep. Got him”
I could sense something. I don’t know what, but something in his voice smelled of lies.
I closed one eye, lent toward him…and whispered
“I want evidence”
“No really. I took the toaster outside….and ”
“Eeeew, was he cooked?”
“Nope, he was quite chuffed. He crawled out and ran away. Then I stomped on him on the road”
I didn’t believe him for a second. Not for one second. I could smell a rat. Excuse the pun…
“Where’s his body? Prove it” I said
I followed him to the road…