But it does seem that the 730’s recent issues with winged rodents seems to inspire me to write up posts. Don’t know why, as other things have happened, some far more interesting. Never, the less, here you are, another Bat-Related entry, this one entitled: “OH SHIT! STEVEN GET DOWN!!” Sunday night. Tired from a vigorous dragon boat practice, and full to the rupture point with delicious Red Robin, Steven and I had returned to my house for some well deserved rest and perhaps, a smash-attack or two. I casually strode towards the backdoor/entryway, my hand wrapped around with a plastic bag, crinkling with recently earned easter candy. I opened the door, turning back to tell Steven about how the neighborhood cat (not to be confused with Moxy the Cat) was as always, terribly friendly, and yet, terribly unappealing. I turned back towards the entryway and saw a shape, dark and terrifying fluttering angrily, swooping with an unbridled rage right at my face.

“OH SHIT! STEVEN GET DOWN!” I shouted as I dropped to my knees, my candy shuffling in the newly defined contours of the plastic bag. “ITS A FUCKING BAT. FRONT DOOR. FRONT DOOR!” I pulled backwards, shuffling on my hands and knees hoping to hit the light switch behind me. As I reached my tender palm upwards, I saw the devil spawn swoop towards me once more on its orbit up and down the entryway.

“GOD DAMN IT!” I shouted as my arm recoiled in fear of its undoubtedly rabies-filled mandibles. In a moment of sheer bravery I through my arm up, hitting the switch and backing out further, further, further from the door. The incandescent light now raining down throughout the corridor illuminated my worst fears. A bat, brown and beastly fluttering up and down the entryway.

“Front door.” I muttered.

Steven and I ran around to the front door, me dialing cohorts that were soon to join us (Brandon and Evan) and forewarning them that the back door, was certainly not the best way to enter the house tonight. We gathered the house mates and watched in the kitchen for a brief moment as the little demon continued his unending aerial march back and forth from the doors of the back entry.”What do we do?””I’ve heard there are two ways to deal with this. One involves a tennis racquet, the other baseball bat.””What about racquetball racquets?””WHAT?! You may as well be using a badminton racquet then.” Then an idea hatched in my brain. A brilliant idea. Shoo the bastard out.

I sprinted back to the back door, again dropping to my knees, crawling to the door.

“David.  On my mark, I want you open the door and throw me a plastic bag.”

“Ok.”

The furry freak fluttering back and forth, me crawling as fast as I can, I scream. “MARK.”

David opens the door flinging out the bag and slamming the door, and instinctively the bat clings to the window at the other end of the tunnel.   Now armed with a plastic bag, I’m ready to do what I GOTS TO DO.  Slowly walking further and further towards the monster, I’m on tip-toes, hoping he won’t notice and flutter in my face scarring me permanently.  Apparently exhausted, the little demon continues to simply sit on a window panting.  I place the bag ever so delicately over him, hoping that he won’t notice he’s suddenly in a bag as I slam it against the ground, but all was for not.  I could see him moving inside the bag, attempting to walk towards its outer edge.  I cringed, knowing soon enough, I’d be bitten 12 times over and become a walking rabies monster, shouting and slobbering most profusely.  Then, as if he had planned it all along, the bat just flew out the back door.  I realized now that the bat had been testing me.  To over come my sheer terror of him.  If only parents had recently been shot by a thief, I could be a real man.
Oh well.