I am The Hunter. With my spatula-shaped weapon of mass destruction I lurk in the shadows stalking my prey, waiting for that moment. The moment when my strike will prove most effective. A brief stop on the window is all I need. I wind back my arm and extend the weapon letting the plastic webbing smack against the window. Another helpless victim falls at the hand of The Hunter.
The fatalities have been increasing here. The war has gotten ugly. Frank as we call him here in the ranch has been really attacking at full force lately. Leaving the door open mere inches at times, the enemy creeps their way inside our compound. Their flying skills are far superior and cannot be overtaken with our hands alone. Whizzing past my ear they play games. They know that their flying skills are far superior to our hand speed. It's like their evolving. They're getting faster and now it's impossible to catch them with a bare hand.
I remember the days when my methods of catching Frank (the fly) with my bare hand was perfected. The arch up and come down over technique that I employed had a 75% success rate. Frank was scared of me. When he saw that hand coming around he knew to run or he would soon be caught. But not now. Not these days. Now Frank plays games. He whizzes past my face lands on my head. he'll walk around on the tabel right in front of me without any fear of the ancient weapon that I used so well in the past.
But we're learning to adapt as well. they may escape the bare hand but our swatter is a force to be reckoned with. But that's not all. We lure them in at times with a cup with sugar at the bottom. They can't resist. sometimes it'll be awhile before we see them but they stay in that cup. They get greedy, and that's when we nab them.
I don't feel bad for them at all. Not one bit. They are the enemy and they'd do the same to me if they
could. This is a war people and it isn't pretty. I'm writing to you from the trenches. I see what is going on. I have come face to face with the enemy and had to put him down. It's a matter of survival and so far I've come out on top.
The policy that we have around the ranch is "shoot first, ask questions later". There are no prisoners in this war. There are the living and the deceased. I plan on emerging as one of the living.
I'm not heartless. It's just the way things go. I caught one in the bathroom the other day. The bugger
was crawling around on my damn sink. The sink that I use to brush my teeth and wash my face. And there was the enemy just crawling around on it like it was his own. And you know what I did? I opened the door and let him free. I probably shouldn't have. He'll probably come back and attack us again and when that day comes, there will be no mercy, for I am The Hunter.
The fatalities have been increasing here. The war has gotten ugly. Frank as we call him here in the ranch has been really attacking at full force lately. Leaving the door open mere inches at times, the enemy creeps their way inside our compound. Their flying skills are far superior and cannot be overtaken with our hands alone. Whizzing past my ear they play games. They know that their flying skills are far superior to our hand speed. It's like their evolving. They're getting faster and now it's impossible to catch them with a bare hand.
I remember the days when my methods of catching Frank (the fly) with my bare hand was perfected. The arch up and come down over technique that I employed had a 75% success rate. Frank was scared of me. When he saw that hand coming around he knew to run or he would soon be caught. But not now. Not these days. Now Frank plays games. He whizzes past my face lands on my head. he'll walk around on the tabel right in front of me without any fear of the ancient weapon that I used so well in the past.
But we're learning to adapt as well. they may escape the bare hand but our swatter is a force to be reckoned with. But that's not all. We lure them in at times with a cup with sugar at the bottom. They can't resist. sometimes it'll be awhile before we see them but they stay in that cup. They get greedy, and that's when we nab them.
I don't feel bad for them at all. Not one bit. They are the enemy and they'd do the same to me if they
could. This is a war people and it isn't pretty. I'm writing to you from the trenches. I see what is going on. I have come face to face with the enemy and had to put him down. It's a matter of survival and so far I've come out on top.
The policy that we have around the ranch is "shoot first, ask questions later". There are no prisoners in this war. There are the living and the deceased. I plan on emerging as one of the living.
I'm not heartless. It's just the way things go. I caught one in the bathroom the other day. The bugger
was crawling around on my damn sink. The sink that I use to brush my teeth and wash my face. And there was the enemy just crawling around on it like it was his own. And you know what I did? I opened the door and let him free. I probably shouldn't have. He'll probably come back and attack us again and when that day comes, there will be no mercy, for I am The Hunter.
No comments:
Post a Comment