I have declared war on Firebrats, because there are Firebrats in my house.

The first three days of this great war were spent saying, “what is that thing?” and “why are there more things similar to that thing?” I eventually looked it up on the Internet, as I tend to do, and discovered that they were Firebrats. Or maybe Silverfish.

Eeeuugh, either way, right?

Day four of the war was all about studying the enemy. I noticed that the enemy really enjoyed the bookshelf in my bedroom, so I decided that would probably be the best place to attack. I could have used some kind of poison or trap, but this was a Canadian military operation, so I had to come up with my own weapons of mass destruction and build them from scratch.

I spent day five sitting on my bed blowing cigarette smoke at my bookshelf, which, yes, took me five days to come up with. Every time I attacked they would do a little dance of some kind. It looked like a happy little dance, but I knew better. This was a little dance of protest and fury. I had them just where I wanted them.

Days six through eleven were exactly the same as day five.

On day twelve a friend came over for pickles and tea, and boy did he know a lot about bugs. I said to him, I said, “I got these bugs in my room.”

“Open the window,” said pickle-face.

Firebrats are, evidently, very uncomfortable with cooler temperatures. The name could’ve tipped me off, but I had a headrush going from smoking too many cigarettes in my bedroom.

The window is now cracked and the Firebrats have fled in terror of not being overly hot. No idea where they went, but I’m calling this mission a success.

They’re probably under my desk. Eeeuugh.