Did you think you were going to hit me with that bat, and little chocolatey candies would come pouring out?

I dont take care of my car. I'll be honest. If there's one thins in my life that I constantly neglect it is my car.
Now it's not entirely because I don't care, but its because the car is beyond the point of caring FOR it. It has no paint. It has been totaled twice (not by me) and has no insurance. And due to its horrific lifespan it is made out of pieces of other cars now that my father's friend found in a junkyard.
At one point in my vehicles life it was a 1992 Chevrolet Corsica. Currently it is a grey amalgamation. Red fluffy interior that has peeled off pokes me in the back with metal rods as a drive. Old fashioned clutch and shift. Which I prefer honestly.

Exhibit A of said Car:


The last time the car got smashed (by my brother) the radio and air conditioner stopped working. The air conditioner is a needed luxury here in Florida. Especially in summer where the temperature inside a vehicle gets up to over 100 very quick. Lowering the window cools it down a bit, but nothing works like filtered air. But it's the radio I miss the most. It was like my little window to the world. And I really miss listening to public radio while driving home. I need to check if it has an AUX hole. If so, maybe I can just pick up some cheap ass mp3 player at wal mart and use that instead.

The reason I bring this up is because ever since the air conditioner and radio stopped working, I've mostly given up trying to make the car look nice.
And animals have started taking refuge in the vehicle. The other night a few months ago as I was getting out (probably around 1am) I noticed a large cockroach on the ceiling of the car. I grabbed one of my animation books and slammed it with all the force I could to destroy the roach. It died. But that was not the end of my troubles.
Months later, as winter ended and it got warmer, I started turning on the air vents so outside air could blow in.
And thats when I heard it. A fast panicked scratching sound. Like lots of little fingers with long nails scrabbling on some sanded plastic. I knew it had to be a bug. And the sound seemed to be coming from, where else, one of the car's four air conditioning vents.

I've heard the sound several times since then, and I always glance over to see if I can SEE the roach emerging from the vent. I never do. But sometimes I see it scuttle across the dashboard, or at BAD times, crawl across my leg. Of course I can't squeal like a schoolgirl and wildly swat at it as I'm doing 65 on the freeway, so I just have to ignore it.

But tonight, tonight victory was so close. As I was driving home I felt a brush against my arm hairs. THE ROACH, thought I. The streetlight passed overhead, and in the moving light I saw the roach. But it was different. It's wings were flared, it was HUGE, and it looked mutated. Once it had hopped off my arm I quickly lowered the window, hoping the fresh air would coax it to run outside the window, where I would then raise the glass and trap it outside the car.
But it sat there. Just sat. So, swerving all over the road, I slapped at it with all the strength I had.
I don't know what primitive gods it prayed to as it saw my fist roaring through the night sky at it, but they blessed the roach with the will to move itself just enough at the last moment, my hand barely glancing off it's frayed wings. It knew. It knew of my existence. Up until now I was just a silent mountain, observing it as it galloped in it's habitat: my car. It looked up in fear at the giant it had never noticed, flailing it's radars wildly. It lept off the dashboard in the darkness, not to be seen again.

It may be weeks before it dares to crawl from it's home again. It's a good thing I bought Raid to kill the extra fleas in my house. Now it can serve a dual purpose as I bring death upon the cockroach vermin.

and now bed.