Mort Teane, email

EVERY night, Dave would go down to the bottle shop, get a six-pack, bring it home, and drink it while he watched TV.

One night, as he finished his last beer, the doorbell rang. He moved somewhat unsteadily towards the door and opened it. There was a human-sized, evillooking cockroach standing there.

Before Dave had a chance to respond, the cockroach grabbed him by the collar and threw him across the room, then left.

The next night, after Dave finished his fourth beer, the doorbell rang. He opened the door to find the same giant cockroach standing there. The cockroach punched him in the stomach, then left.

The next night, after Dave had finished his first beer, the doorbell rang again. Yep, the giant cockroach. This time Dave was kneed in the groin, and when he doubled over in pain, the cockroach clobbered him over the head. Then the roach left.

By the fourth night Dave was petrified, and didn’t drink at all. The doorbell rang. It was the cockroach.

This time Dave had the living snot beaten out of him, and the cockroach left him in a crumpled, bloody mess on the lounge room floor.

The next day, Dave went to see his doctor, and explained the events of the past four nights.

“What can I do?” he pleaded.

“Not a lot,” the doctor replied. “There’s just a nasty bug going around.”