MAGGOT FIGHT
Beneath a sky of maggots I walked
Until those maggots began to fall
I gaped at God to receive my gift
Bathed in maggots till the planet shit
--Gwar, "Maggots"
So yesterday morning, I noticed that my dog had pulled a few things out of the trash during the night, as he has been doing lately. This is a problem, but not a huge problem, so I've been putting off dealing with it. Additionally, I haven't really been able to catch him in the act, which is what I need to do to prevent the behavior. Since I was in a rush, I simply put the few items that were on the floor back in the very full trash can and went to work.
When I got home from work that evening, Kuma had knocked the entire fucking thing over, and every single item in the trash can was on the kitchen floor. I noticed that a few of these items were leftover mexican food and leftover bbq meat from the previous weekend, but didn't consider what that might mean until I picked up a plastic bag and saw a SEETHING, SQUIRMING PILE OF MAGGOTS, which then scattered unbelievably quickly, trying to make their way to a dark, hidden place.
I think many people would be freaked out by a squirming pile of maggots, but I, especially, have a phobia. See, back in like, 2003 or so, I [may have] accidentally ingested some pantry moth larva. At the time that I [possibly] ingested them, I was not actually that upset: I said "Hey, free protein!" and shrugged it off. But over the course of the next several days, I began to have more and more trouble eating. I would remember looking down and seeing several squiggling white worms on my plate, and suddenly everything would taste like sawdust. Over the course of the next several years, I've let this fear of squiggling wormy things turn into a full on phobia.
So, when I saw the pile o' maggots, I screamed like a girl and immediately dialed Eric, who did not at first understand the severity of the situation. He first of all didn't realize just how many god damn worms there were (the picture does not capture it, as I did not think to get a camera out until the situation was under control) and secondly did not understand that I was panicked. I am usually a pretty level-headed person, so often people are shocked when I get hysterical. And also me being "hysterical" is probably calmer than a lot of people on a good day.
But I was hyperventilating and crying, and once he realized that I was not doing so well, he did his best to be supportive boyfriend guy, making jokes and reading me Cannibal Corpse lyrics while I tried various methods of killing them. Man, those fuckers move FAST, and are incredibly hard to kill. I even tried just grabbing (squirming, disgusting) handfuls of them and putting them back in the trash, but they would crawl out unbelievably quickly and end up back on the floor. I tried pouring bleach on them, but that just made them move fast.
In the end, I put plastic bags over the top of them and stomped on them, grape-smushing style. This was not as effective as you would think, though, as they curl up like pill-bugs when stomped and seem to survive if you don't really grind your heel in. So every once in a while, I would see a lone maggot making its way out of the central trash pile towards the cupboards and would scream, "Where the fuck do you think YOU'RE GOING!" and stomp it to death.
Gosh, I wish someone had caught this on video.
Jason came home after I got the last of the maggots (I hope) and mopped the floor for me. Then I went out and drank some whiskey. Though after my second drink, the adrenaline left me and I crashed HARD and ended up home and in bed by 9pm. And now I am well-rested and have this awesomely disgusting story to tell you all.