During a recent sheriff lockout, things took a turn straight into haunted horror movie territory. The door creaked open, flashlights flicked on, and—BAM—hundreds of thousands of cockroaches went scurrying like we’d interrupted some sacred insect ritual.
No power in the unit. Just... candles. So many candles. It was less eviction, more like we stumbled into a shrine to the Roach Gods—and judging by the turnout, the offering was well received.
At that point, we weren’t sure whether to call a pest vendor... or a priest. Honestly? Probably both. Just to be safe.
Candles for ambiance. Roaches for trauma.
