Every once in awhile I get a wild hair and decide to tackle the many tasks that fill my “to do” list. Some of those tasks involved putting crap up in the attic, which I access through your typical zombie-escape-hatch-style ceiling door with a ladder screwed onto the other side.

So, I grab my stock FZ6 seat with one hand, and grab the door release cord with the other. I pulled on the cord in a very manly fashion, so that the door would swing down easily.

All of the sudden a big ass bee / hornet / deathclaw flying at me. I swear it had a saddle and the number “13″ painted on the side. I dropped the seat, jumped back about two feet, and shrilled. I was sure I had been stung by this Rodan-sized insect. I stood perfectly still for a set of very loud heartbeats and decided I was still okay.

Meanwhile, the Cloverleaf-sized critter lay still on the carpet. I approached, ready to stompinate the thing into powder should it so much as twitch.

It was dead. Dead, Jim.

SD card for reference. I could visibly see the stinger, it looked like the end of a pushpin. Great googly moogly.