The one that got away...

For some time now, I've had a severe armadillo-phobia. Some would call it an "irrational fear." They lay on that "it's more scared of you than you are of it" line- like anyone actually buys that. That's what the armadillos want you to think.

So as I pulled up to our apartment after work tonight it was unsettling to discover an armadillo between my car and my apartment. Perhaps I should explain the root of my fear, so you can understand where I'm coming from.

It was a balmy summer night at a woodsy little camp called Cedarkirk. We were playing a massive game of Capture the Flag that encompassed acres upon acres of wilderness. Armed with only a flashlight, I set out to complete the mission. For those readers not familiar with Capture the Flag, the mission, not surprisingly, is to Capture a Flag. Anyway, I was in a low crouch with my face to the ground. My eyes were focused on the flag I so dearly sought. I could taste victory.

Then out of nowhere, a giant, man-eating armadillo popped up in front of me, his murderous eyes glinting in the moonlight. He bared his bloody, armadillo fangs and gave a look that can only be described as "Your ass is mine, Wankershanks."

I screeched and ran. To my horror, the armadillo chased after me. With astounding speed and agility, he lept and scuttled at my heels. I may have had 50 times his body mass, but he had a will that would not fail. You'd think I'd insulted his mama the way he was running after me. That mofo was determined to mow. me. down.

Suffice it to say, I am still alive. I was not "another statistic." I was not "another notch in his belt" although he certainly tried. I don't how long the blood sport lasted... only that there was a bright light beckoning to me from above and I ran for it. Even death would be an improvement over such terror. Luckily, I didn't need to die, as the bright light scared the crap out of the armadillo. Oh yeah, and it was the lights around the pool. Not God. FYI.

But you can see that I've been scarred. Who wouldn't be? So when I saw that armadillo outside of my apartment tonight I wondered, "who had he been talking to?" Was I the one that got away? Was there a bounty on my head in the seedy armadillo underground?

I hurried inside without incident, but who knows what they have planned for morning? If I'm taken down by a snarling mob of oversized rat-dogs, I beg you good readers: Avenge my death.