Mission: get rid of bats from the attic. 10-4, I’m on it. Trust me to get the job done right. I’m no professional, but I’m a teenaged gamer with hours and hours of experience at getting rid of all kinds of online monsters and enemies. This will be a piece of cake.
First objective: arm myself with the correct equipment. Possible weapons: baseball bat, tennis racket, long straight stick. I select the stick for its flexibility, length, tensile strength and the way it sits in my hand.
Second: armor. I need something that will protect me from bites but that will not inhibit movement. A motorcycle helmet is selected, allowing me maximum protection vs. maximum visibility.
Third: select my tactical approach. Move up the crawl space into the attic itself? Negative. Not enough room to retreat if needed. Ah ha! I shall sneak up on the enemy from below and from the outside. It will give me the element of surprise necessary to strike fear into the heart of the bats, and they shall flee their den of evil on their own, believing there is an entire army outside. It is a perfect plan.
Carefully, I drag the A-frame ladder up to the house and prop it against the wall. I don my armor, and with perfect stealth I creep up the ladder holding my weapon of choice before me. I can’t help but smile with anticipation. I shall arise victorious from this battle. I imagine my experience points will increase exponentially as I successfully get rid of bats.
Finally, I am in place and ready for battle. I close my eyes briefly and control my breathing, calming my beating heart. Raising my hand, I begin the attack! Slam, whack, bang! The stick falls relentlessly on the attic vent, creating a horrible racket intended to frighten the evil beasts from our castle.
Nothing happens. Cautiously, I make a second attempt to get rid of bats. Whack, whack, bang!
I wait. Nothing. I listen, and hear them moving around, but they refuse to leave by the vent I have been banging. How could they not know they are being attacked by a superior force? How could they not flee in terror? It is incomprehensible.
I descend from my position of attack, obtain a flashlight, and cautiously climb back up to my perch. Peering in, I can see the vile creatures, rustling, leering. They are restless, but well-ensconced. One of them (their leader?) crawls across the wall and turns its head to look directly into my eyes. We stare at each other across the battlefield, and I realize I am up against a formidable foe. It is perhaps it is time to consider an alternate plan of attack?