“Come on then! I’m right here!”
I’d seen this work in action movies.
“What are you waiting for?! Come and get me!”
It’s always the climatic part of the movie. It’s the tipping point where the hero is un-able to take it anymore. He is tired, he is angry, he is beaten and bruised and he is calling the villain out for the final show down. It’s the battle that he knows he won’t walk away from but he has reached that point where he does not care anymore. He is determined to give it his all and that one way or another… it ends.
And here I was, having my heroic moment.
“Tonight we end this once and for all!”
I had reached my tipping point.
“Right here! Right now!”
I was not going to allow this anarchy and injustice to continue.
“What are you afraid of?! I’m right here!”
I was making a stand. I was calling out my tormenter, my enemy, my nemesis. I was calling out a mosquito!
“Come on you coward! FACE ME!”
I was sleepy, I was mildly irritated and I was itchy. It was a heroic image indeed. A heroic image of me standing on the end of the bed in my boxer shorts holding a novelty fly swatter shaped like a hand. Arnold Schwarzenegger eat your heart out.
Strangely the mosquito was not riled by my smack talk. There was no attack. There was no final show down where I could use my enemies anger against them. No. She was far too clever an opponent for that (only female mosquitoes suck blood). She was devious. She watched. She waited and in the morning I discovered fresh bites for my defiance.
I. hate. mosquitoes.
Please state your name for the court.
Mr. Mosquito, Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you god?
Please tell the court where you were between the hours of 11:00pm on July 15th and 6:00am on July 16th.
Bbbzzzzz… bbbzzzzz… bzzz.
Mr. Mosquito. Must I already remind you that you are under oath?
Then I ask you again, please tell the court where you were between the hours of 11:00pm on July 15th and 6:00am on July 16th and please try to think about your answer very carefully.
And what were you doing in the bedroom of my client at such a late hour?
Bbbbbzzz… bbzzz… bzzz… bzzz.
You were only trying to collect food for your family? I can understand that. It’s very noble. I’m a family man myself. I have two little ones of my own. I’d do anything for them. But please tell me; why the multiple bite marks on the one foot.
It’s a simple enough question Mr. Mosquito! Why did you repeatedly bite my client on the underside of his foot? You must have known this would result in it being very painful for him to walk the next morning. This hardly sounds like the actions of a concerned family man now does it? If you really have a family at all that is.
Bz! Bbzzzz bbbbzzzzzz bbzzz bz bbbbzzzzz!
I see… Well, if I was to believe such a thing then I have to ask; why keep my client awake all night? If indeed the foot was the only thing exposed from under the bed sheets as you have stated then why would you fly all the way up to the ear at the other end of the body. You did not feed there so this seems like a pointless action. Unless you were intent on keeping my client awake by buzzing around his ear.
Shall I tell you what I think Mr. Mosquito? I think you chose to bite my client on the underside of the foot and I think you chose to take your time to buzz around his ear between bites because you like your victims to be scared. I think you like to keep them awake all night. I think it adds to your twisted sense of fun.
Bzzz! Bbbbzzzz bzz bbbbzzzzz!
And what about my client’s girlfriend? She was sleeping peacefully next to him all night and yet we know you did not bite her. You did not go near her. You only seemed interested in my client, some might say obsessed even, fixated on one victim. Why is that Mr. Mosquito? Do you only like men?
But it’s not enough is it Mr. Mosquito! What about the bites along the spine during the night that followed? What’s the matter? Is blood no longer enough? Do you need spinal fluid to give you the buzz you so desperately crave? It’s becoming harder to control that insane hunger isn’t it Mr. Mosquito! ISN’T IT!
The blood found in your stomach at the time of your arrest was a DNA match for my client! We know you did it! We can all see you for what you really are! The ritualistic biting, the tormenting, the preference for the male victim, only striking during the summer months! All clearly the emerging pattern of a sexually perverted serial killer! You can’t control the hunger any longer can you Mr. Mosquito. It’s building inside of you, clawing away! How long until you kill Mr. Mosquito! Have you already? HAVE YOU! WHERE ARE THE BODIES?!
Bbbzzz. Bbbzzz. Bbbbbbzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
It’s no use crying Mr. Mosquito. All you can do now is confess.
Very well… As you wish.
Ladies and Gentlemen of the court, you have heard the defendant’s obvious lies. You have heard the evidence and you have heard the chilling events that transpired. All I ask is that you think them over very clearly when giving your verdict. ‘Guilty’ or not guilty… Thank you for your time.
The warrior is always ready for battle when the summer months descend upon him. The warrior is strong. The warrior is brave. The warrior is noble. The warrior knows his enemy. And above all else the warrior lives by the code:———————
1) The warrior will dedicate ten minutes of every night to standing on the bed in his underwear so he might hunt the enemy before he rests his head upon his pillow.
2) The warrior will smite the enemy wherever they are found; on the curtain, by the light fitting, on Mr Fluffykins the bear, on his own face.
3) The warrior is highly skilled with all weapons of combat; the rolled up news paper, the sock, the opened hand, the deodorant plus lighter.
4) The warrior will not raise his hand in anger against innocent bugs of the non-blood sucking kind. Especially the noble spider who is his ally against the true enemy (and technically an arachnid, not a bug).
5) The warrior will sleep lightly, with one ear opening, listening for the buzz of the enemy, ready to swat at the air.
6) The warrior will protect his woman by producing higher amounts of carbon dioxide, octenol and other compounds that attract the enemies’ bites.
7) The warrior will protect himself with the armor of battle; the pillow over the head.
8) The warrior will curse the name of the enemy with his every breath.
9) The warrior will treats his itchy red wounds of battle the next morning with soothing cream.
10) The warrior will wear his itchy red wounds of battle with pride and compare the amount and locations with other warriors when telling tales of heroism.
And above all else; The warrior will not scratch.
The following takes place between 9:30am and 6:30pm on January 31st 2008 in the games studio in Amsterdam where I work. All the facts are true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent:
9:30 am – I arrive at work for another busy day of browsing the internet for amusing photos of cats with funny captions.
9:53 am – I notice a small spider sitting on the ceiling, deifying gravity with his eight little hairy spider legs. We exchange glances.
10:34 am – I look up again and see that the spider has not moved at all, not even a micro of a millimetre. We exchange more glances. He wins the staring contest with his superior eight spider eyes over my ordinary two human eyes.
10:55 am – The spider still has not moved. I decide to call him Timmy. I do not know if his intentions are friendly or hostile yet.
11:24 am – I notice Timmy lowing himself down from the ceiling towards my desk. I wonder if I am about to find out if he just wants a friendly chat or if he is about to cocoon me to my chair.
11:25 am – I lose sight of Timmy.
1:35 pm – Timmy dashes across one of my computer speakers and disappears again.
1:48 pm – Timmy suddenly appears running up the left side of my monitor. He continues to do a lap by running along the top, down the right side, along the bottom (getting cocky with gravity again) before stopping for a rest to catch his breath and disappearing around the back.
2:10 pm – During a conversation with a co-worker Timmy reappears on my desk and runs around for a bit. My co-worker and I stop mid-conversation to watch Timmy for five minutes as he frantically explores the desk. We are easily amused. Eventually Timmy goes back into hiding.
3:12 pm – Timmy suddenly appears crawling over my keyboard. I stop typing and observe his possible attempt to write an email. Eventually he gives up and leaves to explore new areas.
3:28 pm – Timmy climbs up onto the game pad that is sitting on my desk. It occurs to me that he either wants to play the game I am working on or he is secretly a spy from a rival games company. He seems unimpressed either way and leaves again.
3:30 pm – Timmy runs along the edge of my desk forcing me to raise my arms so he can pass. He stops near by. I return to my typing and look back a second later to see he has disappeared. I worry that I either just squashed him or the suspected cocooning is about to start.
3:32 pm – Timmy suddenly reappears on the other side of my desk crawling over my headphones. I decide it will be a while before I wear them again. Timmy runs down the cord and on to my computer. From the computer he crawls to the floor and makes a break for it in the direction of my bag. I wave goodbye and do not see him again.
6:30 pm – I leave work to return home and wonder if Timmy is hiding in my bag and if I’m going to get a sudden and surprising visit in the middle of the night. I decide that if he deals with the mosquitoes during the summer he is allowed to stay and I will adopt him.
A few days ago I discovered a spider in my back garden that had spun a web over my bicycle. I don’t know if it was attempting to cocoon the whole thing but it inspired me to write a children’s story about a young ambitious spider.
Over the next two weeks I am going to be taking a short break from blogging while I am on holiday in the UK. I’ll be back again at the start of September so for now I leave you with the story of Jimmy the spider.—————————————–
Once upon a time in the far away land of Holland where drugs and prostitution are ‘sort of’ legal there lived a young spider called Jimmy. Jimmy lived with lots of other young spiders in a small garden, behind a small house in a small town.
Just like all the other young spiders Jimmy had eight little spider legs and lots of little spider eyes (too many to count but at a guess, about nine, the kind that follow you around the room where ever you go).
However, unlike the other young spiders Jimmy was a little clumsy and he had great difficulty making spider webs. Jimmy tried his hardest but all of the webs he made looked strange and did not follow the regulation EU web spinning guide lines.
This caused the other spiders to be very mean to Jimmy and make cruel jokes about him. This made Jimmy very sad (but not in an emo way).
“Jimmy, your web has no style,” they would say.
“Jimmy, your webs are not as beautiful as ours,” they would laugh.
“Jimmy, that web is in violation of at least thirteen safety codes, none of the load bearing strands are in the right place and it is aesthetically displeasing,” they would mock.
Jimmy’s webs did not catch many insects either which made the other young spiders laugh at him even more. The insects simply breathed a sigh of relief on the other hand.
Jimmy decided that he would study as hard as he could to become a better web builder. He studied all through the day. He studied all through the night. He studied for many, many weeks while the other young spiders played.
Then, one winter’s day Jimmy was finally ready to try building a spider web again. The other spiders gathered to watch as Jimmy started to make a new web using all the knowledge he had learned. They watched as Jimmy swung gracefully from branch to branch laying his web.
When he had finished he stopped to catch his breath and marvel at his work. However, he suddenly realized he had cocooned himself in the centre of his own web by accident.
The other young spiders roared with laughter. Even the insects laughed but they still kept their distance to be on the safe side.
Several hours later when Jimmy finally pulled himself free he decided to move to the other side of the garden where he could not hear the mocking laughter of the other young spiders. Jimmy found an old rusty bicycle that looked as lonely and unwanted as he felt. Jimmy climbed up to its highest point where he spun one of his clumsy webs between the handle bars and went to sleep.
Jimmy stayed there for the rest of the winter, all by himself on the old rusty bicycle in the old garden, behind the old house, in the old town. None of the other spiders bothered Jimmy.
One morning at the start of summer Jimmy was woken up by a loud sound. When he opened all of his little spider eyes he saw a small human boy with red hair coming out of the small house into the small garden.
The small boy walked over to the bicycle and started to look closely at the broken parts on it. When the small boy saw Jimmy he paused and looked very closely at Jimmy and Jimmy’s oddly shaped web.
Jimmy was very scared. Jimmy had heard stories about naughty little boys with psychological problems who like to destroy webs and pull the legs off spiders.
“That’s a very nice web you have Mr Spider,” the little boy suddenly said without pulling off any of Jimmy’s legs. “I like it very much. It is not as boring as all the other webs which are all the same. In fact, I like it so much that I think you should stay.”
Jimmy watched from his oddly shaped web as the little boy with red hair repaired the old bicycle. The little boy cleaned every part of the bicycle so it shined like new but he left Jimmy and his oddly shaped web where it was.
“That looks better doesn’t it Mr Spider,” said the small boy when he was finished. “Now we can go out for a ride. Would you like that Mr Spider?”
Jimmy who did not understand what the small boy with red hair was talking about simply shrugged. Even though Jimmy did this with all eight of his little spider legs the small boy did not notice the tiny gesture and they went out for a bicycle ride.
Every day the little boy rode his bicycle through the fields and meadows of Holland with Jimmy sitting on his oddly shaped web on the handle bars of the bicycle. Jimmy’s web was a very good shape for being attached to a very fast moving vehicle. Jimmy was able to catch lot and lots of insects and bugs during their adventures in the mid day sun. Jimmy and the little boy with red hair became best friends. Jimmy was very happy.
A few months later the parents of the little boy with red hair became very concerned at his claims that his best friend was a spider. Eventually they sent him to a child psychologist.
For many years the insects told the stories of El Arachniablo and the devil bicycle upon which he rode with his servant who has hair redder then the fires of hell.
Jimmy went on to teach his aerodynamic web building skills to other spiders. Jimmy was very famous and happy.
This story is Copyright© of ‘Invading Holland’