The little mothers were going down.

by:BrightMart     2020-07-11
He knew how to get rid of roaches all right and did not need to read the instructional manual provided by the Fuller Brush Salespeople to know how to use the powerful insecticide that he bought. The little buggers stood about as much as a chance of sticking around his pad as a warthog had of winning a beauty contest. (That is, of course, if the warthog had entered a beauty contest which was being judged on the generally accepted conception of beauty and not any of that 'eye of the beholden' jibber jab that the poets yammer on about. Anyways you most likely get the idea of the whole point of the metaphor.) So anyway, he was pretty sure he knew how to get rid roaches and had only sort of listened to the thirty minute lecture that the guy from Fuller Brush had given him as his rather attractive partner sorted out the paperwork. Killing roaches was in his blood. His daddy was a roach hunter and so was his granddaddy, and his great granddaddy, and so on. In fact, his whole family tree could be traced back to Roachius Killalotus, a famous roach killer for the Roman Emperor. At least that was what his pappy had told him during their shoeing sessions in the family kitchen. 'Son, are family comes from a long line of roach killers,' his daddy would say in between squashing roaches with the heel of his hush puppies, 'It's a proud tradition that's goes all the way to back to the days of Nero and one that we still uphold to this very day.' His daddy had taught him a lot about hunting roaches down and eradicating them with the back of shoe. He knew how to get rid of roaches all right, but now he hung his head in shame at his moment of weakness in front of the Fuller Brush sales force. His daddy had told him never to resort to insecticides, that all a man needs to rid himself of roaches was 'a good shoe to squash them with' and that using chemical warfare was the 'German way'. However, he had found himself entranced by the idea of just spraying something and walking away. 'Never!' he screamed in a primal way then poured the insecticide down the toilet.
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