Freakin bug.

I go into work the other day and I see this enormous flying insect that looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. I have never seen anything like it before. It was sort of like a cross between a dragonfly and a big mosquito, but it was bright orange. I saw it when I walked in, but when I started getting ready for my day, I foolishly forgot about it. Until it attacked. This sucker dive bombed me like a kamikaze on a suicide mission. It hit right in my freshly coifed and sprayed hair. I ran screaming and frantically smacking at my head. After a few minutes of girly, unnecessary, and dramatic overreaction, I was finally convinced he was no longer on me and that the threat of this hideous creature burrowing in my brain and muliplying rapidly had been narrowly averted. I grab a fly swatter and go on the hunt. I was stalking the beast like a big game hunter in the most unyielding of foreign unexplored jungle. I finally spot it on a ledge in the kitchen. By the time it catches my eye, I am standing only inches away. I held my breath and raised my weapon high above my head. I swung hard and hit my target square. So accurate and deadly was my aim, that the creature exploded and a very large piece of it flew and landed on my left cheek. Holy shit. Holy. Freakin. Shit. After I ran and scrubbed my face furiously (If I'd had some sand paper I might have employed it), I opened the doors and greeted my customers covered in sweat and red faced, with smeared makeup and tousled hair sticking up everywhere. I was slightly traumatized, but I was victorious. Go me.