**This REALLLLLLY Happened. This is NOT Creative Writing! Well,
OK, So I guess I DO think in CARTOONS, but this is Still My REALITY!

The Great Showdown: Ronnie Vs Texas Pete!

So This was my night last night:

So picture this: It's a peaceful night in Florida. I just got home from the local bar. The air is still. The crickets are chirping. And inside my house, I'm in bed, minding my business, thinking about a perfect world without bugs. Then suddenly, I had to pee. I make my way into the bathroom and suddenly I feel... A presence…

I stand up and look in the shower and THERE. IT. IS.

The Boss Palmetto Bug. BIGGEST, BALLSIEST Palmetto bug I have EVER SEEN!

This thing didn’t just crawl in—it sauntered in like it owned the deed to my damn house. It was the size of a small dog, I swear. It looked like it had just rode in from Texas, fresh off a wanted poster. Saddle bags? Check. Spurs? Jangling. Two tiny switchblades? One in each creepy, twitchy arm. I think I saw it spit some chewing tobacco towards me.

I screamed. Joe!!!! Joe? Dead asleep. Completely Useless. I knew at this moment that I was alone in this war. No weapon. No plan. Just Ronnie and the mother of all Bugs.

There is No backing down.
There is No escape.
There is No weapon of choice (shoe).

Then I saw it. My Excalibur. A bottle of hot sauce on my dresser. Don’t ask why it was there. Perhaps Divine intervention? I grabbed it like a warrior and just started blasting. That bug zigged, and I zagged. I’m hitting it with Carolina Reaper fury with every glug. Reddish sauce is now sprayed and splattered in crazy patterns all over my shower walls and floor!

I saw that it ran for cover under my shower bench. I couldn’t see it, but I knew I had it cornered. I was steady, not slowing down, shaking the Hot sauce bottle like a madwoman, and yelling war cries. Then my sauce ran dry. My ammo was Gone.

But I wasn’t done. No, no. This was personal now. I wasn't about to run for cover like a Punk and give him a chance to call his homies! I was gonna be practical but stay on scene...

I looked around ... No blow torch, no sulfuric acid. My bathroom was ill-equipped for this rumble.... so I grabbed Joe's Medicated mouthwash from his recent oral surgery. I doused the area like a minty Molotov cocktail. I almost lit a match but thought better of it.
When I realized this was prescription mouthwash, I switched my ammo.... Pantene conditioner—because if I’m gonna see this through to the end ... At least this thing’s gonna DIE with soft, silky legs. probably. But somehow... he got away. I don't know how.

And now… out there… somewhere… is a furious, glowing Red Palmetto bug. He smells like Buffalo wings, has minty-fresh breath, and luxurious shiney legs. Probably plotting his next move. Or maybe he will open a salon. I think he now goes by Texas Pete.

Rest Assured, He IS STILL OUT THERE! You’ve been warned Florida!