Ants

...Wombat wonders why ants have it in for him. He's just making a cup of coffee, humming quietly to himself, when he looks down to see an ant waving up at him. Wombat growls, grabs a wiper and sends the ant to ant nirvana. No ant trail to follow... just one ant.

The trouble is there is never usually just one ant. Wombat hates ants. They mock him and they seem to have free range of his house. They never stick together.. it's always one ant.. then another further up the wall.. or a small group in the bathroom (the bathroom for goodness sake.. what could ants possibly want in the bathroom!!!)

Wombat is sure that the ants have meetings to decide how to frustrate him and turn his fur grey. He imagines their meetings. "I know..." one ant will pipe up. (The small one in the back who wants to make a name for himself.) "Lets spread ourselves around the house - check out the kitchen sink, the bathroom floor, the lounge room floor etc. and make sure Wombat never sees where we get in. Then, when he's hopping mad, lets meet in the dishwasher for a group hug!" "Brilliant!" The other ants cry and off they go to carry out their devilish plan.

Wombat opens the dishwasher.... dishes covered in ants. "AAAHHHHHHhhhhh!!!! he screams, races for the dish washing tablets and sends the ants to a watery grave. There are two things he's sure of.. the ants will be back, and soon a guest will complain about a dead ant in their (heavy) crystal glass. Wombat hates ants.