The Friend Who Wouldn't Die

Over the weekend I went on a backpacking trip into the mountains. Little did I know I’d be bringing somebody home with me!

And no, you sickos, this story is not about me getting pregnant on this trip and then going through several failed abortions. Wow. You guys disgust me.

So anyway, I went on this camping trip because I’m rugged and outdoorsy and I enjoy a little bit of nature every now and then. On the last day I remember placing a plastic bag of toiletries on the dirt as I packed up my tent. Once I was all packed up, I threw the bag into my backpack and departed the campsite.

After the long weekend of hiking and rugged outdoorsyness coupled with the tiresome drive home, the last thing my tired body wanted to do was unpack everything properly. However I did pull out my bag of toiletries to fish out my deodorant as I was in desperate need of a shower and to smell like something other than dusty socks that have been bathing in an armpit all summer. Forty-five glorious minutes later, I emerged squeaky clean and fresh from the shower rejuvenated and motivated to properly unpack my camping effects. 

The first thing I reached for was my plastic bag of toiletries.

That’s when I met my friend!

My friend is pictured below.

And this isn’t your normal creepy crawly earwig. This was a Sawtooth Wilderness earwig. It eats normal earwigs for “I’m in a munchy mood, but I don’t really feel like eating a full meal” snacks. I mean this was a

giant

fucking

earwig

An earwig that, I deduced, crawled onto my bag of toiletries during the time it was in the dirt and hitched a ride home with me. My initial reaction to meeting my friend the earwig was screeching like a banshee’s pissed-off cat and fleeing to the adjacent room. My husband heard my cat screech and proceeded to ignore me mostly because he had just gotten in the shower after me and wanted to passive-aggressively punish me for taking up all the precious hot water.

I peeked around the corner to see Mr. Earwiggins rapidly crawling around his plastic bag home deciding the best route to take towards my pillow where he could lay his earwig eggs. 

NOPE.

I quickly snatched up the bag, Mr. Earwiggins in tow, and threw the whole thing into the sink. 

Unfazed by his sudden flight and crash landing, the earwig crawled ferociously towards the mouth of the sink. Before he could get to the lip, I turned on my tap water and flushed a huge wave at the fucker and down he washed towards the drain hole. 

And just as quickly as he slid, he regained his gross earwig footing and resumed his crawl towards me. I panicked and flushed more water his way. I tried and tried but no amount of water could sweep this earwig down far enough. I filled a cup as he crawled back up the porcelain and dumped a powerful gush directly on him. This caused him to swirl down the drain hole and I blasted the tap down after him in hopes to flush him down to the depths of the sewer. After running enough water to put out a relatively small forest fire, I shut the tap off and sighed with relief at the riddance of my friend the earwig.

The en….DOOOH MYYY GOOOODDDDD!!!!

The fucker actually crawled OUT OF THE SINK!!! What kind of demonic spawn of Satan was this thing?? I couldn’t think of what else to do except try to flush him down again.

“I’m finally getting some hot water,” husband droned at me.

“Hot water! Good idea!” I said and immediately turned the knob from lukewarm to BOIL. If this earwig wouldn’t drown, I could certainly scald him to death!

On take two I flushed Mr. Earwiggins down the drain and blasted the hot water down on him until steam fogged up the mirror. (“God dammit!!” husband lamented.) As soon the skin on my own face started to blister from the steam, I figured I’d done the job and shut off the tap.

“I think he’s gone,” I reported to husband who had basically endured a five minute ALS ice bucket challenge.

“Great. I hope he was worth it.”

“Indeed,” I nodded and turned back to the sink.

A;woigha;oigaw’oighaw’oeighaw’oegvns’dg THERE HE WAS AGAIN OMG ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOWAAAAHHALGKHASLDGHASLDKGHSADHGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHWEHGAWLEGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111111111111111

At this point I just started throwing random objects at him, hoping that any one of these projectiles would end this demon’s life or at least suspend his immortal soul so that I could dispose of his flesh vessel.

One of the objects I threw was a Kleenex box. Although the sharp corner of the box didn’t end Mr. Earwiggins’ life like I had planned, it did give me a relatively good idea.

I grabbed out a tissue from the box and used it to pinch Mr. Earwiggins into a suffocating trap of soft whiteness. Then in one sweeping motion, I threw the toilet seat open and tossed the Kleenex into the bowl with Mr. Earwiggins sailing with it. “Plip” went the Kleenex and Mr. Earwiggins’ earwiggy body wiggled beneath the damp tissue as it floated on the surface of the toilet water. 

“And now you meet your end!” I announced as I pushed down on the lever to flush him to his doom.

The water slurped down through the hole and I watched as the two ply Kleenex separated in the flushing process. One half got sucked down into the depths but the other half…

“Are you frickin’ KIDDING me!!” I screamed as Mr. Earwiggins, still underneath his wet Kleenex shroud, clung to the side of the bowl as the flushing water flowed over him.

“Maybe he’s just not meant to die,” husband suggested, rather impressed with the earwig’s tenacious will to live.

“NO!” I insisted, frantically flushing the toilet again. “He MUST DIE!!”

Finally the second flush swept Mr. Earwiggins and his Kleenex down into the hole and through the pipes. I watched for several moments with my hand ready at the lever for a third time, fourth time, as many times as I needed to drown him and rid him from my life forever.

He never crawled back out.

It has been five days, 28 flushes and 13 hefty bowel movements since this incident and I’m happy to report that no Sawtooth Wilderness earwigs have been spotted crawling out of my bathroom to reap revenge and lay earwig eggs.

Thus ends the horrific tale of Mr. Earwiggins, the friend who wouldn’t die.