Bastard and Bitch, til death do them part...

Last night, They re-emerged. "They" I say, because they have formed an alliance.
I enter the kitchen, and freeze... black as shit, the cockroach is back. As I quietly ponder the thought of rushing back to my room to get my camera, I hear a scurrying noise, and whizz! the little mouse darts past my feet towards the safety of the washing-machine, which, in turn, startles the cockroach, as he runs under there in turn. The brown bitch and the black bastard just disappeared together. I swear, the mouse saved the roach! Had she not ran inches by him, he would have just stood there waiting for my foot. It was all eerily disquieting.
"Kiss ikhtkon sharmouta," is all I could mutter.
But, I do admit that the mouse was probably more freaked out than me. I can tell by the way her bum skids on the waxy floor, and the sounds of her body hitting stuff on her way to the washing-machine. She first climbs down the electric wire from the kitchen top down to beneath the fridge, and bumps her head everywhere in the process. Then she has to pause and assess the situtation before jetting from under the fridge (where she bumps her head again), darting acroos the open space of the floor to under the washer, where she bumps her head for the millionth time, and finally manoeuvering one of those 90degrees twists to slide to safety. Then, she probably bumps her again one last time under the washing-machine, and crashes on one of the side cupboards to break her speed. During that long anguished trip (which only lasts 3 seconds, but must feel like an eternity for her), she's like a cross between a Formula One car, and one of those ugly racing dogs on the cover of Blur's first album...
Anyway.
So I tried to get to sleep, but insomnia hit. I could imagine them both celebrating under the washing-machine, giving themselves high-fives (after having calmed their little frantic pounding hearts), and laughing at me, clumsy human-thing... DeLaFontaine would've loved this one.
It was too hot to cover myself with the bed sheet, but I was obsessed with the idea that they would come out from their washing-den and observe me from under the door, let alone crawl up and walk all over my skin for fun, poking my eye and waving their infested butts in my face.
So I got up (it was 1.30 am, mind you), turned the kitchen light on, and saw the bastard! I did not give the bitch a minute to think of warning him before I squished her friend to a pulp. And then I took victory pictures!


Who's laughing now, huh?
I could have mercy for the mouse, knowing the harrowing effort she goes through to escape me. But, save for her speed, she's just as dumb as her roach friend... And her turn will come.

And I know I'm not the only one... read this.