I never would have purchased this house if I'd known about that there was a slug problem. Every morning we wake up and come downstairs to find that there are hundreds of little silver pathways criss-crossing across the carpet. They only ever appear in the living room and I can't find where they are getting in.
To try and rid ourselves of these uninvited guests I spent a whole afternoon liberally barricading the perimeter of the room with salt. 'There,' I thought, 'try and get past that you alkaline creatures of the night!' I went to bad that night feeling quite victorious. Sadly it was not to last. I came down the next morning to find that not only had the slugs managed to get in and leave with little trouble (there were no shrivelled carcasses my mountain ranges of salt) but the salt had hardened into one large rock. No amount of scrubbing would remove it, so not only was it ineffectual, it was now permanent.
I tried and tested many homemade slug traps, the most efficient was a deep saucer of beer. Apparently slugs are quite the party molluscs, and can't resist a pint. They climb (or rather slime) their way into the saucer in order to get a cool, refreshing drink and end up drowning themselves. However there are two downfalls to this method of slug trapping. The first being that someone has to empty a saucer full of bloated dead slugs, which is deeply unpleasant task. The second being that the slugs kept coming. After a week of me emptying my homemade booze trap I had had enough. I am still unable to look at that particular saucer without getting shudders. It is a shame as it was a gift from my mother when I first left home, and is the perfect size for a slice of jam toast.
'That's it!' I thought, 'this requires an old fashioned stake-out. I'll get to the bottom of this no matter what, I refuse to be outdone by slugs.' Those were famous last words if I ever heard them.
Slugs are typically nocturnal creatures, as that is when it is coolest. The next night I sat on my sofa with my remote control, a T.V. guide, a large bottle of some dreadful neon caffeine drink and a tattered old blanket. We had given up bringing nice ones downstairs after I forgot about it one night and it got slimed. Although washed, the memory of it could not be fully restored. Needless to say I was not popular with my partner in crime, which is probably partly why I was sitting up at three in the morning on my own. You see by this point it had become a matter of pride. It was me versus the slugs, and it would be raining on the moon before I let them win, I can assure you that. If I could just find out where they were getting in then I would be able to solve this nasty little mystery.
By 4 o'clock I was fast asleep, all good intentions forgotten in that face of the fact that I had had a rather long day, and there wasn't much good on T.V. after 3.30. (In truth there wasn't much good on T.V. after 1.30 but people will watch anything these days). I woke at 6 to find that the slugs had been and gone, and slimed my slippers in the process. I think this may have been the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back.
The battle against the slugs had cost me dearly. One large packet of salt, the perfect condition of the carpet, three cans of some awful smelling larger, my favourite jam toast saucer, one large bottle of cheap energy drink, my slippers, many nights sleep and possibly my sanity.
'That's it!' I shouted it this time. 'Get your coat my love, and anything you hold dear. I refuse to let the slugs win!'
Under the circumstances there is really nothing I can do. I can't live in a slug infested house, that's why tomorrow I'm setting it on fire.