It was Chad, the lead assassin.
"So we dosed you pretty hard" he said. "Keep the dogs inside for at least half an hour and then you should be good to go. Should start seeing a lot of dead bugs very soon."
From his mouth to God's ears.
He then turned serious. "There was, however, one spider's nest in the garage we just couldn't get. I don't think we actually have anything strong enough to kill it. C'mon, I'll show you."
I was horrified.
He led me around the corner to the open garage and pointed to this...
Happy Halloween! I had forgotten it was there.
Chad doubled over with laughter and I admit I cracked up too.
Exterminator humor... who knew?
Chad and his accomplices were soon on their way.
Did it work? Too soon to tell.
"C'mere" said the boyfriend as he flipped on the patio lights last night.
Out on the concrete, scores of cockroaches were scurrying all about. True, it wasn't as bad as Wednesday night, but it still looked like a scene out of "Starship Troopers".
"I think it failed" he said. He seemed totally defeated.
"I don't know, honey" I said. "They seem a little more confused and listless than usual. Let's give it some time."
We did make it through the night without anything skittering across the bed, so that was one small victory. And we did wake up to a higher than normal body count, although not the killing field we had been told to expect. Certainly not enough to make much of a difference.
My fear is that the locals heavy reliance on pesticides has led to mutations that are now beyond the reach of man. Perhaps in the end, Bakersfield exists only as a Stephen King cautionary tale.
