The Nigerian Prize

The tropical cockroach originated in Asia or Africa. Nigeria is known for its email scams. See why cockroaches will outlive the human species, email, computer chips, and all high tech being no obstacle.

I'm the man of the house, right? Then why is my biggest worry always them tiny insects?

It looked like a roach trap, the kind they crawl in and can't crawl out of. I know because we had an exterminator in last winter and after spraying he left those little black plastic traps all over the house, behind the sink, under the fridge, even on top of the spice rack. They look like something you'd get ketchup in at a fast food joint, except for the black color. Why can't I get over the feeling that they're spreading poison into our food and shouldn't be left in our kitchen? Still, nobody here is getting sick. It's high technology, I guess. The exterminator is a professional. Don't question him. Before we hired him we had been overrun by roaches in this old house we just bought. They hide from the light, most of the time that is, but a big hunter cockroach will make a bold dash out in front of us when it smells good food, such as when we are pan frying steak. And once when I got up in the middle of night to go to the kitchen sink for a glass of water, I caught about a hundred of them frolicking around, getting a drink from the dripping faucet. Tap water never tasted so good after that. Now we are free of them, and all for only five hundred bucks.

Then the package arrived from Nigeria. It wasn't unsolicited. I got a spam email offering me a big prize if I used my credit card to pay the registration fee. It was only $29.95, and I spend more than that for a dinner out at the steakhouse, so I took a dare and did it, filled in the form and clicked the submit button. The package was very colorful, emblazoned with primitive African art, scary masks and such. Inside was the prize, a teak plaque shaped like a scary mask. The eyes were menacing, but it was very chic I guess, so I put it on the wall over the television, which it soon began to guard like a demonic sentry. But then I only watch a little television, a little in the morning and a little in the evening, while I'm getting ready for work, and again, while getting ready to go out after work. Going out on the town for me is a cutting edge sport. What do you get when you combine a mask, a TV, and a maniac? Never mind.

The package was filled with white styrofoam pellets. Too filled. There is no way to reach into them without spilling several on the carpet. Some will stick to my clothes. It's always a chore to clean up. It's like a tub of entropy just waiting to even some kind of thermodynamic score. Hand goes in, pellets come out. It's not a direct relationship, more like a fractal one, like they teach in chaos theory. You know, chaos theory. Where a butterfly sneezes in Brazil and there's an avalanche in Sweden. Only this is more up close and personal.

So it took a day to find it, as I had been too lazy to carry the package out back to the dumpster but had left it on the extra easy chair that nobody ever sits on but is used as a table. I picked the package up, intending to take it out, watched it leak some plastic pellets, put it down to gather them up, and bumped the package, causing a hundred more pellets to scatter on the rug. It was then that I first saw it on the carpet. It was a plastic package a little bigger than a roach trap. White, not black like the latter. On one side was a computer chip, some wires bent carefully, and another metal lozenge. I picked it up and examined it curiously. I wondered why it was in the package. There was no labelling, no switches, no battery, just a computer chip which had a kind of clear eye in the center of it, clamped into a metal housing. I put it on my computer desk and forgot about it until the next day. Then I decided to throw it away.