The Cockroach Queen

Dylan Hostetter, Opinions and Humor Editor

It is a big deal to move into your very first apartment, especially alone. You get peace and quiet, there’s no arguing over what is for dinner and you can finally listen to your pirate metal music at any volume you want. Okay, maybe that last one is just me.

This was the first time I had lived alone since I was in my mother’s womb. Well, apparently I had a twin in there with me for a bit, but I’m told I may have eaten him. His name would have been Trevor.

If you couldn’t tell, I have always wanted my own space, and boy was I glad to finally get it. Don’t get me wrong, the first three years of college spent in residence halls was an interesting experience, to say the least — but between all the strange noises, smells and stains, I’m certain I’ve had my fill.

I spent the whole first day in my new apartment unpacking boxes. I was so glad I finally had room for all my stuff, but as I was placing my special edition “The Great Muppet Caper” McDonald’s drinking glasses onto their designated place in my kitchen cabinets, I spotted something less than exciting: a cockroach.

The building I’m renting from is no Ritz-Carlton — I can only afford so much on a college student’s budget — but the last thing I expected to see was a cockroach. They are typical in dingy apartments, but beyond the cracks in the walls and all the water spots on the ceilings, I considered my place to be pretty nice. 

But there it was, crawling its way across my kitchen countertop — that nasty little creature, looking up at me with its evil little eyes. The shock of seeing the roach, in combination with my generally sweaty palms, caused me to drop my Kermit the Frog glass. 

As I watched it shatter on the floor, all I could feel was intense anger. That poor little green frog didn’t deserve that. I like to think he’s riding his bike around movie tie-in merchandise Heaven right now.

Revenge was enacted. I grabbed a hammer from my tool kit and swung at the roach with all the force in my body — which isn’t a lot, admittedly. Thankfully it was just a little bug and not a legitimate threat. Any weapon in my hand is more a danger to myself than to anything else.

The hammer swing was enough to squash it flat against the countertop, ending its pesky little existence. I also left a hammer-sized dent in the granite, but hey, I probably wasn’t getting that security deposit back anyway.

Later that night I was awakened by strange sounds. This was odd — most of the time I woke up in the middle of the night it was because of a recurring nightmare where Sabrina Carpenter was taller than me and also my dentist. This time though, it was something even stranger.

I turned on the light to see a horde of small shapes running all over my body. Without my glasses, I couldn’t really make out what they were in the moment, but thanks to the title and set-up of this story, you can guess they were cockroaches. It would be weird if they were ladybugs or something — that wouldn’t really make any sense.

The next thing I remember I’m waking up again, this time tied down at my arms and legs beneath a giant hammer. The weirdest thing though, was that I was surrounded by a horde of human-sized cockroaches.

The horde parted, and from the crowd stepped a female cockroach wearing a heavily jeweled crown. She told me she was Queen of the cockroaches and that I was to be executed for my crimes against her people.

Apparently, the cockroach I killed for breaking my Kermit glass was her son. Or her brother, I’m not sure — it’s hard to understand cockroach. I didn’t really question why I could understand her at all, and instead just started pleading for my life.

I told her it was against cockroach law to execute me without giving me a fair trial. She was confused that I knew this about their culture, and I was confused that this thing I just made up was real. But hey, when you’re tied up under a giant hammer, sometimes you get lucky.

The trial in question was no typical judge and jury fare — it was a gladiator-style fight to the death. As I was fitted for my armor, I had time to reflect on how I got into this situation. Maybe I wasn’t fit to live alone. I missed my old roommate. Other than that time I walked in on him sniffing my dirty socks, I suppose he wasn’t that bad.

I was led into a large arena by a set of cockroach guards. “I bet you guys can do dishes super fast with all those arms,” I said. Neither of them answered. Maybe they didn’t understand me, or maybe cockroaches don’t have dishes. Either way, it really killed my mood.

They threw me onto the dirt and tossed a sword down by my side. A crowd of thousands of cockroaches were hissing and jeering as the Cockroach Queen sat on her throne above them. She called for the battle to begin, so I grabbed my sword and stood to face my opponent.

It sounds silly to say this thing was a big cockroach considering all of these cockroaches were technically big, but this guy was gigantic — I’m talking the André the Giant of cockroaches. His antennae were three feet long and he was holding a scimitar in four of his hands. I haven’t faced a more fierce opponent since that kid in my third-grade spelling bee nailed the word “liaison.” 

At that moment I was struck with a rush of bravery — I mean, hey, I smashed that one with a hammer, how different could fighting a giant one to the death be? As he threw me down hard on the dirt, I realized it was pretty different. Not only were these cockroaches gigantic, they were strong. 

As the giant roach stood over me pointing his sword, I tried to regain the wind that was knocked out of my lungs, and I once again reflected on my life up until this point. Was I a good person? Had I eaten enough salads? Were fast-food tie-in collectible drinking glasses really the best hobby? 

What was I thinking? Of course, they were! I got back on my feet, stood tall and gripped my sword — though it was a little hard to hold on to because my palms were so sweaty. I glanced at the Cockroach Queen. She made a thumbs down with her disgusting cockroach fingers. This was almost over.

When the roach gladiator lunged at me, I tried to make a defensive move, but my sword slipped out of my wet hands and landed on the ground. At that point, I decided to play dirty. I grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it in his eyes, then kicked him in his cockroach shins.

The crowd didn’t like my antics; I could tell by their hisses. But what did I care? I was okay being the villain to these creatures. I picked up my sword, put it to the roach’s throat and looked up at the Queen. Where was her thumb now?

It was at that moment I woke up. Yep, this was all a dream. What, did you really think it was real? Did you really think I was fighting giant cockroaches in a gladiatorial arena? Do I look like Russel Crowe?

I guess the surprise of seeing hundreds of cockroaches crawling over my sleeping body sent me into some kind of shock-induced nightmare. That part was real. It turns out my apartment has a pretty decent history with pest infestations that they so conveniently left off of the Craigslist advertisement.

I can’t really do anything about the roaches. Pest control considers my building to be condemned, so they won’t touch the place, and I already signed a two-year lease that is surprisingly legally sound.

It looks like my best bet is to make friends with them — neither of us is going anywhere. Maybe I can train them to do chores around the apartment if I agree to share my food.

Editor’s Note: The characters and events depicted in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.