Dear SOS,
I recently had my first encounter with a Wren bug. I'm not normally the squeamish type, but it's just that this one had so many legs. I really didn't know how to go about exterminating it! Is killing bugs even considered PC anymore?
Sincerely, Buggin' Out
Dear Buggin' Out,
After recently becoming a resident of Wren Hall, I can truly sympathize with you. Since moving in three weeks ago, I have had exactly three encounters with the aforementioned species commonly referred to as the "Wren Bug."
Before I go into how to properly obliterate (or at least humanely remove of) the said intruder, let me provide you with a detailed description of the beast. In student vernacular, the Wren Bug has been referred to as "a mix between a centipede, a millipede and a cockroach," with the same physical makeup as a "hairy peanut." Its proper name, though, is most likely Scutigera coleoptrata, or, "house centipede."
According to the fountain of wisdom we call Wikipedia, "Because they eat household pests, house centipedes are considered among the most beneficial creatures that inhabit human dwellings, but because of their alarming appearance, frightening speed, and painful bite, few homeowners are willing to share a home with them."
Right you are, sir Wikipedia: Few residents desire to share their dwelling with such a leggy species. And thus, measures towards total annihilation must be employed.
I've never been one to take pleasure in killing animals. I always retreated in a fit of disgust during fresh lobster dinner nights in the summers of my youth. However, I fully support the death of incriminating bugs (when I am not the one doing the exterminating).
That said, I approached my first few Wren bug fiascos in entirely the wrong manner.
My first encounter involved a na've shake of my suede pirate boots while getting dressed one morning, when out of nowhere dropped a creature I had only heard stories about. Starstruck, I looked around my room for some form of containment (There was no way I was killing this beast just yet - I had to prove to my friends that the legends were true).
I immediately grabbed a small monogrammed box intended to hold dainty jewelry, and proceeded to use it for its exact opposite purpose. I captured the bug, which barely fit within the realm of the box's four-inch diameter, in hopes of either starving or suffocating it to death in a plastic coffin.
A few nights later, whilst socializing in another of my suitemates' dens of brick, we spotted a baby Wren bug, which sparked my recollection of my previous encounter. Luckily, Wren's athlete population this year rivals that of Gantcher, so we employed one of our agile dormmates to execute the double massacre.
But the real issue is the amount of vestige that is involved post-killing. Because Wren bugs are known for their copious legs, it is inevitable that a simple "smoosh" tactic will leave traces of unwanted residue and severed extremities. Although I now know that insects can survive two days in a plastic box, I still am a big fan of the trap-and-suffocate method. If you can lure the bug into a zip lock bag of sorts, you will be able to both limit its mobility and showcase it to your fellow residents.
Nevertheless, one can only zip-lock so many bugs before the process will become wholly mundane. In that case, paper towels and sturdy tennis shoes should always be kept on hand for proper squish and removal methods.
