Because of the heavy protest received by all the poor souls who were forced to look upon a growing number of cockroach pictures, I decided to rummage through my computer to find some more pleasant photographs to post.

Tada! I present to you a small collection of pictures from various trips I made downtown Chicago last summer. May it be noted that I both suck as a photographer and have a horrid camera. However, no cockroaches in sight! (Reason #30958 I'm so glad to be leaving Texas in a matter of days...)

Speaking of which, I have a new cockroach friend! (My dorm building is cursed. And old. And gross.) Her name is Jordan. She escaped her styrofoam bowl — I will never live in Texas without those things — and ran around in the protective tupperware container for a good twenty minutes before deciding to play dead. I'm thinking of leaving her on my floor until my mom gets to town on Thursday night. We'll see.

(Pictures of Jordan the Cockroach will be delayed for the sake of the beautiful Lauwen.)

I've been struggling for a few days now, trying to come up with a clever or humorous way to share the last few chapters in the saga of Herpes the Cockroach. (If you haven't already done so, be sure to read the introduction and the story of the capture.) Alas, my skills as a storyteller are lacking, and this seems to be one of those things that is most memorable for those of us who had to stand in the same room as this creature.

Thursday night, I wandered over toward Club in search of some brave men to help me in the torture and killing of Herpes. A few minutes later, I walked back to my room with Pimp, Cooley, and Danielpants, all of whom neglected to tell me that they are bigger cowards around cockroaches than I am.

Herpes had been sitting on my floor under a styrofoam bowl for several days at this point. Surrounding his polystyrene home was a tupperware container to ensure that he could not escape, even if he did manage to eat his way through the styrofoam. Now, if he managed to construct a small bomb to blast his way through the bowl, I can't foresee the tupperware being of much use.

Anyway, my original plan was to remove Herpes from my room before burning him, but Cooley and Danielpants refused to tag along unless I consented to skipping the torture part. Pimp was instructed to slide a piece of paper under the bowl so that Cooley could jump on the whole thing and yet still spare my carpet from ooze and guts. However, after Pimp had the sheet of paper under the bowl, he grabbed for the edges of the bowl and the paper and attempted to lift this from the floor.

From this point forward, events unfolded in slow motion.

A small gap emerged between the styrofoam bowl and the piece of paper. I saw this and began shrieking, asking Pimp what he was doing and demanding that he return the whole thing to the ground.

Because of the slow motion effect, my words didn't reach his ears in time.

He began flipping the bowl over very cautiously. His cowardice radiated throughout the room.

My jaw dropped.

Herpes the Cockroach donned his favorite cape and launched himself from the bowl, through the ever-widening gap, and flew defiantly across my room, landing with a maniacal laugh upon my bed.

No longer were things happening in slow motion. Instead, everything began happening too quickly. I couldn't stop Pimp from screeching like a woman. I couldn't stop him from shaking my comforter violently in what I can only assume was an attempt to aid Herpes in escaping faster, for that is exactly what happened. I couldn't stop Herpes from dashing under the leaping feet of my friends as he rejoiced in his newfound freedom.

I couldn't do anything but blink my eyes in astonishment.

The boys all took turns playing hide-and-seek with Herpes, but none of them could keep from jumping long enough to actually capture him again. Finally, the devilish cockroach took off at sixty mile per hour toward Pimp's feet, pausing only long enough to make several complicated turns on the carpet before wandering toward me. His dilly-dallying cost him his life, as I successfully trapped beneath yet another styrofoam bowl (best investment of the semester by far).

This time, no mistakes were to be made. The paper was slipped beneath the bowl. Cooley jumped with all his might upon it. Herpes breathed his last.

Just kidding. Herpes survived the impact, though his head was no longer attached to his body. Thankfully, enough of his body had been damaged that he couldn't just walk off the paper and run blindly toward my leg, which I'm sure he would still somehow devour even without a head.

The boys no longer protested when I suggested that we end the night by burning the remains outside in the courtyard in front of my dorm building. We scooped up the bowl and the paper and the writhing body and walked boldly outside, thrusting everything upon the ground with anger and victorious pride.

I regret to inform you that this is all that remains of Herpes the Cockroach. He lived a horrid life, too much of which was spent terrorizing me in my room. The kingly death he experienced was more than he deserved, and I do not hesitate to say that I am not at all sorry to see him go.

Goodbye, dear Herpes. And good riddance.

Herpes the Cockroach has indeed been relocated and caught. After he initially disappeared yesterday, falling into a pile of Wal*mart bags, he teleported to the ceiling and was scuttling about with glee up there for a while. Given his history of falling from walls and ceilings, I nervously stood under him with an open cardboard box, hoping to catch him if he lost his grip. It would have been so convenient to then just walk the box outside and throw it in the dumpster... and then to obviously light the whole thing on fire.

Alas, dear Herpes refused to fall from the ceiling, choosing instead to fall asleep at a corner above my desk, too close to the ceiling for me to reach. Unable to access my computer for fear of him leaping upon my head, I sat across the room on the spare bed and angrily stared at him, trying to summon laser beams from my eyes. When that plan failed, I grabbed my miniature ironing board, threw a plastic bag over one end of it, stood upon the chair next to the desk, and chickened out. Fifteen minutes later, I finally summoned the courage to smash him to pieces. Unfortunately, he dodged the massive object hurtling toward his body and instead fell from the wall, disappearing in midair.

I, of course, freaked out at the sight of a flying cockroach, so I thrust the ironing board out of my hands, knocking several things off my desk and almost breaking my flat-panel monitor. I fled to my escape hatch, also know as the shower. I knew for a fact that Herpes couldn't get into the bathroom from my dorm room, but that didn't stop me from shaking as I tried to wash away my fears along with the soap residue from my body.

Since Herpes the Cockroach was still MIA when I finished showering, I grabbed some piano music and left my room. A few hours later, I called up Danielpants, insisting that he come meet me for coffee at the school's coffee shop. After coffee, lunch, and much other stalling, I finally went back to my room, weary and in need of sleep. I decided that I was going to just crawl in bed and sleep, feigning ignorance in an attempt to regain the bliss that accompanies it. After all, had Herpes not landed in a pile of Wal*mart bags (twice), I wouldn't have heard him, seen him, or noticed him for who knows how long.

I began removing pieces of my bedding one by one, shaking them out as I did so. Each piece that did not contain a cockroach was lovingly placed on a nearby chair after receiving a "thank you" and a hug. The sheets, blankets, and comforter were all deemed to be clean, and I had just finished putting the last piece back on when I noticed that part of my feather bed was slipping out over the edge of the mattress. I gave that a shake, when plop! Herpes fell to the ground.

For the first time since he and I had met, I allowed myself to shriek like the girl that I am. I flailed about helplessly, expecting him to make a mad dash for my leg, which he would then climb up and devour.

Instead, Herpes was just as frightened by the whole experience as I was, and he wandered rather drunkenly across my floor. This gave me enough time to dash across the room, grab a styrofoam cup, decide that he wouldn't fit under that, grab a styrofoam bowl, and capture him.

Let me tell you... The most awful part of the whole experience was the sound and feeling of Herpes trying to escape the bowl from under my hand. He went absolutely haywire for a full two or three seconds before finally settling down to plot my demise in silence.

Google couldn't tell me whether or not cockroaches could eat through styrofoam (though roaches did apparently lay eggs in styrofoam headstones that one person created for Halloween), so I encased the styrofoam bowl in a tupperware container. Both are still sitting on my floor as we speak. Hopefully, Herpes hasn't tunneled through the floor. I'd probably get fined for that.

Meanwhile, I get to wait until tomorrow night when the boys are allowed up to my room before anything more can be done. I'm sure the school would frown upon me putting my roommate in the freezer or setting him on fire or flushing him down the toilet, but sometimes, these things must be done.

Besides, he totally doesn't listen to the same music I do, and his alarm always wakes me up in the morning. Obviously, this punk is asking for it.