This rule applies to all of gods scary creatures and bugs unless

A) Said bug is too big or too fierce to fit into a glass, Or, B) Said bug is a wasp.

In either case, my technique differs slightly. Attempting to catch something that clearly needs to go to a few anger management classes and has the potential and strong burning desire to make you suffer seems a bit silly. In fact it seems downright dangerous and so my patented and foolproof method for surviving an encounter with said nasty is simply to run like bloody wind and pray I am faster than the thing I am running from. I’m not talking about aimless running here, oh no! I run to the nearest library and read up on the creatures’ life expectancy. Then I stay put until the damn thing has hopefully died of natural causes.

I’m not really sure I understand the point or purpose of a wasp anyway. Other than to make otherwise rational and sane people deteriorate into babbling nervous wrecks with facial ticks and deep-rooted psychological problems they don’t really do anything. Out of all of the potentially dangerous or scary things that sting you, wasps are the most useless.

Bee’s for example, make delicious honey and pollinate the flowers. Some of the more attractive ones are lucky enough to be cast in Winnie the Pooh cartoons. Clearly, Bee’s have a purpose.

Stinging Nettles are another example, you can at least use them to make something that vaguely resembles tea. All right, the tea could easily be mistaken for pond water in both sight and smell but allegedly it is quite good for you

Perfume and hairspray can be pretty scary too in the wrong hands. When it is sprayed directly into one’s eye, well I’m not sure the word sting quite begins to cover it. But again, there is a point to that. It is to remind stupid people (like myself as discovered one day at the perfume counter in a large department store) not to spray said cosmetics directly into your eye. They also make you smell good and have nice hair. – Bonus!

So again I ask myself this. What is the point of a wasp? Aside from hating mankind and wanting to make us suffer, I’m having a job compiling a list.

Something that had never occurred to me was this. What would happen if a wasp happened to be getting the same bus as me?

Unlikely I hear you cry! Well HA! You’re wrong because that is exactly what happened one freezing cold November morning on my way to work. Yes, you read that correctly too. Mid-November and there I was, stuck on a bus with a bloody great wasp the size of my hand. These things have a habit of seeking me out but at least that gives me something to write about.

Here is what happened.

The bus pulled up at the stop after mine, and two school children, one elderly lady and a wasp got on. The wasp for some reason didn’t bother buying a ticket but instead flew directly over to the back of the bus. There, it stopped and gathered it’s thoughts for a while, composing a brilliant and cunning plan to take over the bus and then the world. The driver shut the doors and everyone gasped. Then the driver continued on his route while everyone else started breaking out in a cold clammy sweat.

The wasp excited and aroused by the smell of fear and the sight of 24 cold clammy foreheads glistening with sweat, started to glide back and forth along the bus. Instinct took over and before long the other passengers and I had a sort of Mexican wave effect happening all down the bus. The bus driver seemed pleased and appreciative, mistaking our dance of panic for one of celebration and thanks for his unique and superb driving abilities. He tried to start a rousing rendition of ‘Hail to the Bus Driver’ but we were fighting for our lives and sadly could not join in.

The wasp continued to glide past us in a stylish manner that would have earned it at least an 8.5 in Strictly Come Dancing. Occasionally he would stop and wink at some of the more alarmed passengers. We would get up and flee to the other side of the bus to relative safety, at which point the wasp would fly back over and glide down that side causing everyone to ‘Mexican wave’ back over.

Mass panic was now spreading around the bus at an alarming rate. Some of the smaller passengers fell victim to crushing injuries as they were slammed up against windows by larger and ultimately more cowardly ones trying to unsuccessfully escape the insane insect which, by now we had determined must have had rabies.

In spite of the sheer panic and abstract terror, it was beginning to be quite enjoyable and excellent exercise.

The wasp by this point, drugged by its own sense of perverted power had grown even more arrogant and was attempting a backstroke, resting his wasp-head on his two front legs and waving with the two middle ones.

After what seemed like an eternity the bus came to its next stop and on stepped one of the older school kids. He was tall, clean cut and smart. He looked to me, the sort of boy all of the others would turn to in a crisis and as luck would have it, I was right. Casually he walked up the aisle of the bus, and as he was about to take his seat, the wasp who now deemed himself unstoppable, cruised over in what would prove to be the biggest and final mistake of it’s pointless little wasp life.

The boy didn’t flinch or even bat an eyelid. He simply lifted up his arm and with a firm THWACK, he hit the wasp up against the glass window. Splat. Job done.