Jtron vs. Mistress Beetlezilla Von Making-Me-Sad-Town.

So my plans to attend Jeff's birthday/Harry Potter fiesta were nearly undone by an unfortunate predicament involving me and a female Rhinoceros Beetle of gargantuan proportions. I'm not exaggerating (about one fact, at least); it actually was a rhinoceros beetle. And it was in my kitchen. How it got there, one can only speculate.

Allow me to preface this tale a bit:

I have a bug phobia.

I mean, not severe enough to confine me to my house, but let's just say that if a bee were to intrude anywhere within my ten feet of personal space, I'd probably run around, flailing and screaming very, very loud.
Now when I say that I'm irrationally afraid of bugs, I'm not just referring to the ones that sting. I'm talking about anything that could potentially crawl into my head and lay eggs:
Flies.
Grasshoppers.
Lady bugs.
Butterflies.
And I'm relatively certain that if a fairy flew up in my face, I probably wouldn't like those very much either.

To demonstrate the ludicrous extent of my irrational hatred of insects, and consequently, the people who like them, I give you Exhibit A:
In Disney's Animal Kingdom, there is a 4D movie attraction inside the Tree of Life that is based on the movie A Bug's Life, starring Flick the loveable ant and all of his insect pals. Less than two minutes into the movie presentation, when the lights went out, there was one person in that audience sufficiently bugged to stampede an entire row of small children in order to get to the egress.
Guess who that person was.

Anyway, back to my suspenseful tale of danger and, er, suspense.
As I was walking to the bathroom to fix myself to go out, this effing insolent beetle the size of Chicken McNugget comes strolling out of one of the bedrooms, moseys around a bit and then stops directly in front of me with an attitude that could be described as confrontational. The thing stared me down (or sized me up, for that matter) as if I were somehow the intruder in the house, and how dare I be there.
I stood there for a moment, absolutely dumb with shock. I mean, I've never seen a bug this big ouside of a museum case.
Then I started screaming like Jason Vorhees was chopping me into bits with his machete.
Running into the bathroom, I climbed up onto my washing machine, still screaming.
And screaming.
And,
Screaming.

I was in a predicament: nobody else was home, Atron was going to be picking me up within moments, and I was stuck in my bathroom, the prisoner of a bug that could clearly best me in physical combat. And I certainly didn't want to see the wingspan on the thing; if it took to the air and flew at me, it would have knocked me through a wall.
Luckily, I had my cell phone, and I called my brother who was just getting off work.
The conversation went something like this:

"What do you want?"
"Sqeeeeeeeeeeeeee squeeeee Biiiilllllllll! Bill, kill it! Squeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
"What? I can't understand anything you just said."
"Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. *pant pant* Squeeeeeeeeeee!"
"What is the matter with you?"
"I'm trapped in the squeeeeeeeeeeee bathroom squeeee heeeeeeeeellllllppppp!"
"What!? How the hell are you trapped in the bathroom?"
"The bug! The bug! Squuuuuuueeeeeeeeeee!"
"This is about a bug? You're an idiot." Laughter.
"This isn't just any bug, Bill. This bug is intelligent. It has the capacity to reason and deliberate and strategize. Clearly, it is evolved. Or possibly the mythical progenitor of all bug species on this planet. Kill it kill it kill it!"
More laughter.
"I am in earnest, William -- this thing has girth. You could use it to move stuff instead of renting a Uhaul. Seriously, you have to kill it. I can't stand the thought of that thing in this house. It's touching all of my stuff! I just know it! It's probably out there drinking my beer, looking at porn on my computer, and laying eggs in my pillowcase right at this very moment."
"You ass."

So, long story short, after nearly a half hour of being stuck in my bathroom, I managed to escape when Beeblebrox, my clever and resourcesful cat, created a brilliant diversion, allowing me to slip by Beetlezilla undetected. I made it just in time to see Harry Potter, and with only mild emotional trauma.

Although, after I ran screaming from the house and my brother arrived with the cavalry, I apparently missed a tremendous battle of Tolkien-esque proportions. There were catapults and arrows flying, a lightsaber duel, karate moves, massive explosions, and broken dreams. Then the beast was slain. Or so my brother tells me. Now I fear the ghost of the bug will come back to haunt me. It will sit on my face and try to smother me in my sleep.

I can't believe he thought I was exaggerating...