Meet Cuthbert.

I’d like to tell you a little story about Cuthbert.

As you shall soon see, Cuthbert was a most extraordinary being, who suffered a lot this morning.

It all began when Cuthbert was rudely interrupted from his stroll.

He’d been walking up a nice soft shower curtain, minding his own business, and singing a little song, when the broad who was in the shower screamed.

Said screaming broad then froze in wonderous panic, and Cuthbert smiled to himself. He’d always been proud of his large size, well-groomed wings, and extra-long antennae, and he could tell that she admired them too.

He whistled a little to show off, and kept on walking.

But the shower curtain soon became more turbulent than he’d remembered it ever being - it was moving rather violently. Fed up with trying to keep his hold, he let go, and landed on the wet tile floor.

Then he saw the screaming broad again. She quickly ran out of the bathroom and closed the door. He was all alone again. He could still hear her whimpering behind the door, but he’d reached the conclusion long ago that the big folks were impossible to understand.

Cuthbert then scampered towards the hot pipe running up from floor to ceiling in the corner of the room to dry off. He was halfway up the pipe when the door opened again, and this time two screaming broads were staring at him. Feeling a little self-conscious now because the water had mussed up his wings a little, he circled around to walk up the rear of the pipe, with his back towards the wall. That way he’d be hidden.

The two came and went a couple times, and he decided he was tired. So he crawled back down to the floor, and started walking. So far, no more screaming broads. Wait. The first one just opened the door again. Shit. Maybe if I freeze, she’ll miss me and leave. Cuthbert was a very clever flying cockroach, you see. But Cuthbert never saw the sneeze coming. The broad just stood there and sneezed, and he was startled by the sudden noise, and his antennae moved. And sure enough, the broad started screaming again.

But Cuthbert had found a bed, and he was determined to go take a nap, screaming broad or no. His plans were foiled, however, for all of a sudden he felt a shooting pain in his back. He twitched and screeched a few times, but his screeching was completely drowned out the screams he heard from above. He tried to limp under the bed, but they screamed even louder and he felt the pain again. And again and again and again.

And that was it. Cuthbert died at 8:23 AM on Friday, November 30th. Miserere dominus, miserere dominus, Cuthbert mortuus est.

In closing, I feel the need to share the following:

I am the screaming broad. And I say to you, Cuthbert old friend, FUCK YOU FOR NEARLY KILLING ME IN MY SHOWER THIS MORNING.

The End

Poor little devil- all he really wanted was a warm place to sleep, a nice bed, some table scraps, and a roof over his little roach head.

May he rest in peace.



Wow. I never thought I’d see the day when I felt pity* for a fucking a cockroach.
[sub]*However, if I were in your place the little fucker would have been the victim of a lot of chemical warfare, ie RAID.[/sub]

Please notify me when funeral arrangments are complete. I shall perform my “Requiem for Cuthbert in D Minor” on the world’s smallest violin. And would Cuthbert prefer the lily or the gladiola for his funeral wreath?

I’ll just pick up my mourning dress up from the cleaners, whip up a quick tuna casserole for the bereaved, and be on my way. Try to hold on til I get there, darling. I know you’ll miss him, but I’m sure his friends and family will be a source of comfort to you in these difficult times.

At least, you didn’t kill archy the cockroach. The world needs more vers libre poets.

Dies irae, dies illa …

dont fret over Cuthbert.

he has left many children to take his place.

Pucette, I shall be sending you a box of his relatives, so that they may attend the funeral.


It’s roaches like this that give all cocks a bad name.

But the broad is still naked, right? Tell me the broad is still naked.

Great rant, Pucette! Fun to read, some suspense, amusing to the extreme… I give it an 8.3!

I think he was stalking you because of what you did to his cousin when he (the cousin) dropped off of the ceiling into your lap. (See? I remembered.)

gobear, I was going to make the archy reference (as I did in Pucette’s earlier thread) but you beat me to it. Damn you and your literacy! If I didn’t fear you and your weight lifting bulk I’d say something stronger!

Obviously, one of the a’s doesn’t belong. I’d just like to know which one.

I look forward to hearing magdalene, punha, and Green Bean at Cuthbert’s funeral, which has been postponed until this evening because the screaming broad didn’t have the stomach to peel the remains off the bottom of her clog this morning.

Sadly, said broad had to clothe herself to go to work, which was the least of her worries, considering the difficult task of explaining to her boss exactly why she was half an hour late.

Spritle, your theory sent chills up and down my spine. Surely there will be payback. But I will be prepared.

This time, I will have CHEMICALS.


I read this and instantly pictured Pucette stepping out of the shower to find that she is surrounded by a group of cockroaches. They circle around her and attack one at a time. She handily fends them off with each renewed wave. Occasionally, they attack in pairs but she is able to jump up and kick both of them at the same time, kick one immediately after the other, or grab one and spin it around such that the other attacking cockroach hits his friend instead. This goes on for quite some time as the group of cockroaches dwindles to just a few.

Finally, all the cockroaches are lying on the bathroom floor, dead or unconscious, we don’t know - except three. Having been beaten savagely, two of the remaining are trying to get up from the floor but fall back while the third looks at Pucette.

I picture a close-up of his eyes, squinting more then less then more again, not unlike that scene in “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly” where Clint Eastwood and Lee Van Cleaf try to stare each other down. Suddenly, the cockroach lunges and screams such that his cockroach mouth doesn’t match with what he says, “Youuuuuu keeeeeeeld maaayyyyyyyy braaaaaadaaaaaaa!!!” and takes a midair swipe at Pucette who ducks the brunt of the blow but is caught by a razor sharp antenna across her shoulder.

Pucette reaches across her body and touches the small drip of blood oozing from the fresh wound with her fingertips. She slowly raises the blood tipped fingers to her lips and gently tastes her own life force on her fingers. With a great burst of energy, Pucette raises her ancient clog of death and, with a quite impressive double forward summersault landing her behind the cockroach, bashes him all upside the head repeatedly until his lifeless exoskeletal hull lies cracked and broken.

Then, as if stunned by her performance, Pucette drops the clog and walks slowly out of the bathroom…

Yup, that’s what I pictured.

Oh yeah, if I picture it on Skinemax, she dropped her towel early in the fight and did all the cool stuff topless. :smiley:

Damn skippy.

Cockroach? COCKROACH? Amateur. Tell Cuthbert to say hello to Eduardo the scorpion when he gets to his final resting place.

(Granted, Cuthbert could fly, but Eduardo was twice his size and had claws and a stinging tail for cryin’ out loud!)


There’s something about the name “Cuthbert” that evokes images of a mace-wielding warrior-monk.

I’d give odds on the monk over the dang ol’ scorpion.

You rang?

EEEEEWWW! Take out the second “a”.