Goliath had a brother

Goliath's brother, Hercules, came to visit my bathroom. With no male neighbours around I rolled up my sleeves and prepared for mortal combat. Armed with my can of Raid Insect Spray I arranged myself in the standing sprint start position, arm out straight behind me. I took aim, and I fired. Almost as if he pre-empted the attack Hercules took flight - straight at my head. Not being made of strong fighting fibre I fled from the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. There followed a thud then a scrabbling as the Hercules hit the door. "Lucky escape" I thought, "Phewf! He'll be gassed inside and I'll just have to collect the body".

Alas, Hercules is a member of a species that has not been affected by evolution, has not changed for millions of years. He was not going to give up easily. He was hunting. Smelling my fear he made light work of defeating my door barrier, crawling through a gap I never knew existed (he'd obviously been casing the joint), and I swear he gave me an exceedingly menacing look. I squealed, more loudly than I had intended, for my neighbours heard me - "Auntie Kate! Wetin happen?!" They tried to enter my room, but it was locked. I was only in my underwear so was reluctant to open.

I hopped from foot to foot: get dressed? let them in? get the cockroach? OH GOD WHERE IS IT?? I needed back up, and fast.

Thank goodness for no-nonsense African women who can calmly broom-bash an angry flying tank without squealing and squirming in panic.