It’s 11:30 p.m. I’m walking into the bathroom, naked, going for the post-intimacy pee – you know what I mean. I flip on the light and notice what I think is a dead cockroach next to the roach trap, behind the toilet. It’s not a roach – it’s an evil, terrifying scorpion.

I think perhaps it has died on the roach trap poison. Until that fucker moves.

Step Two: Secure Assistance.

“Beaker! BEAKER!”

Screaming for help is much more effective if you’re jumping up and down. Naked.

“BEAKER!”

“Jamie, I don’t care. JUST KILL IT!”

“I can’t! It’s not a roach, it’s a scorpion, and I’m scared, and oh, yeah, FUCK YOU!”

Beaker runs down the hall as I choose this moment to sprint back into the safety of my bedroom.

Step Three: Procure A Weapon.

Beaker: “I need a shoe!”

Me: “Use one of yours!”

He decides one of mine will be more effective. Stupid platforms.

Step Four: Panic.

Beaker: “Where is it? WHERE DID IT GO?!”

Me: “I don’t know, I don’t know! Just kill it!”

Beaker: “I have to FIND it to KI— Never mind. There it is.”

Step Five: Smash That Fucker.

Beaker smashes that fucker.

Step Six: Reward The Victor.

Like I’m gonna tell YOU.