This is an old one from when Fauna was still The Wild West. Some of you old timers may recognize the cast. They also wear human guise, so be careful.

There was this guy. A nice Guy. A quiet Guy. A live next door to him three years and never know he was even there, kind of Guy. He lived in a tiny apartment in a big building. It was fine for him. He had is bed which was small but quite comfortable. He had his own bathroom, always a plus. He even had a view of the park through his kitchen window. A nice guy living in a nice though tiny apartment.
He shared this tiny apartment, not by choice but with grace and good will, with a BIG cockroach. We’re not talking the little two inchers New Yorkers think are big, those hairless bugs are nothing compared to this one. We’re talking the Norwegian Shiprat of Cockroaches. The thing was the size of a spaniel, or a squirrel at least. It was huge. You could hear it’s multilegged run two rooms away, which was also as far away as you could get in The Guys tiny two room apt.
It, the gigantic cockroach, also had the manners one would expect of such a loathsome creature. He, the cockroach, would scurry out of hiding, crap in the middle of the floor, whiz in the guy’s wheaties, and generally make a nuisance of himself. It was not pleasant. But the guy, really a nice guy, he made do and soldiered on, cleaning up cockroach crap from the middle of his living room and tossing many a bowl of wheaties, usually before consuming cockroach exudates.

Now The Guy, not a bad Guy mind you just a Guy living in a tiny apartment with a BIG cockroach, told the roach MANY times, "I am sure that you enjoy my company, crapping on my floor and whizzing in my wheaties, BUT, and he would pause dramatically, I don't really like you. It's not that I have anything against insects in general, it's more that I just don't like YOU because you crap on my floor and whiz in my wheaties and think it's funny that I haven't YET squashed the hell out of you. Someday though, I will. Squash the hell out of you, that is."

The cockroach laughed and scurried under the refrigerator, a VERY tight fit and his favorite place to be when he was not crapping in the middle of the floor or whizzing in the wheaties, chuckling to himself and patting himself on the carapace with four out of his six filthy hands, so to speak. You could actually hear him enjoying himself under there after a mornings wheatie whizzing. He was not a good neighbor.

The cockroach got bolder and bolder, as do many who misunderstand guys like The Guy, coming out in the middle of the day as well at all hours of the night. He was sighted in the bathroom, drinking toilet water, of course, as well as hanging out with a couple of fleas under the couch. I believe their names were neil and bud, but I may be mistaken there as it has been many longtimes since I have actually spoken to The Guy.
With his new flea pals egging him on the cockroach grew more audacious, more blatant if you can believe it, going so far as to bait The Guy, just an average guy, living in a tiny apartment that he was basically content to share with the cockroach and his flea friends, the cockroach's not the man's, he really had NO love of vermin, by sitting on The Guy's, just an average guy living in a tiny apartment with a BIG cockroach, shoulder while he slept and whispering in his ear. Cockroach humor is NOT funny to anyone but fleas and cockroaches so it wasn't really funny, no one likes to hear things like that about their mother.
It was annoying to The Guy, just an average guy living in a tiny apartment with a BIG cockroach, to find cockroach footprints on his pillow every morning; foul evidence purposely left by the cockroach to annoy The Guy, just an average guy living in a tiny apartment with a BIG cockroach. What was hoped to be achieved by basically smearing poop on a pillow has never been made clear, but the cockroach repeated the process many a time, indeed.

This went on for quite a while as The Guy, just an average guy living in a tiny apartment with a BIG cockroach was actually fairly tolerant of others. He didn’t look for confrontations. He went out of his way to avoid them, usually. He figured people had a right to act the way they wanted and if it bothered him a bit, well that was just his tough luck. Others seemed to tolerate it well enough, he could at least do that much.

THEN one day, just an average day, nothing special or spectacular, the sun rose in the east, the wind blew cold from the north, the cockroach crapped in the middle of the floor then whizzed in The Guy’s wheaties and, then and there, The Guy simply had ENOUGH.

You know what The Guy, just an average guy living in a tiny apartment with a BIG cockroach, did? After years, he was a VERY tolerant Guy, of floor crapping and wheatie whizzing, of canoodling with vermin, with parasitic losers in his, The Guy’s, own home, The Guy came to the point where there was no other option, nothing else that could be done, no balance left to right the universe than that before him. So, being The Guy he was……

He STOPMED on that F'ING bug. He used his Size 19s of Justice and squished like there was no tomorrow, which there wasn’t for a certain bladderically challenged roach, and that was the end of that. No more daily whizzings in the wheaties, no more morning crappings in the middle of the floor, no more fleas under the sofa and no more foul whispers in the middle of the night, no more poop prints on his pillow.
The Guy, just an ordinary Guy living in a tiny apartment, felt good about stomping the wretched insect that had so plagued him these last few years. It was good to resolve such a negative situation so resolutely, so thoroughly, so soul satisfyingly, so physically and terminally.
Sometimes you just need to stomp some cockroach ass.

Guess which part was played by you bug, er cockroach, er bruce....