A frantic call for help comes from wife or daughter. I run to the scene ready for daring deeds. I keep an eye on the offending insect while someone runs to get me a broom. A can of bug spray is brought in as a back up, in case the intruder runs and hides (I would just step on them, but I object to stepping on creatures so big that you can identify their internal organs afterwards).
I assume the stance of a matador, with broom held high. I face the foe and move forward, daring him to make his move. Finally, he makes a mad dash, often directly towards my bare feet. The broom I hold suspended in mid-air until he runs just underneath, and then, with a matador like plunge, I thrust my weapon directly down upon the charging creature. I call out my victory and am rewarded with shouts of jubilation. No one comes to admire my handiwork, but peace and tranquility once more return to our happy home. 
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