This happened only moments ago, my heart rate has yet to slow. Enjoy my slight peril. My brother and I. It’s 12:40. We’ve just watched a movie. Tarantino, so it’s a longass movie. We catch a smoke break outside and come in to see a bird fly through the front hall to the living room. This used to happen a lot in another house with a slightly more broken chimney. Bird falls down, flips out for like 20 minutes until we successfully shoo it out the door. Fine. I get a broom, bro opens a door. It’s sitting between the tv and ceiling. I definitely won’t be able to touch it with a broom. I give him a moment to start flying again when I see a webbed claw stick out. This fool is a bat. And suddenly everything is more complicated. It will bite my dog, he’ll have to be put down. It will bite me [i]I’ll[/i] have to be put down. It will bite my brother, who will in turn bite me and all other humans within reach, slowly spreading the early disease of a zombie apocalypse. I’ve retreated from the living room to the stairs, and Señor Plague Purveyor has started frantically circling the room again. Cue incessant sibling bickering about [i]how[/i] we’re going to free this thing. My first instinct was to get the dog out of the house. My brother and dog are by the door, and the Bat Room lies between us. So, reasonably. I ask him to let the pup outside to avoid a scene. My brother’s first instinct was to sic the dog on the bat. On the rapidly moving, high flying, disease carrying bat. That was not happening. My next suggestion was for bro to go swat the bat with a broom. Was I supposed to do it? Me? The Fragile Woman™️? This spawned another argument about how willing I was to let my brother die of rabies before the dog. It was at this moment, Señor realized the living room does not have doors, and made a direct beeline for my head. I made unholy noises, likely horrifying every ancestor that bothers to tune into my channel. I ran up the stairs at record speeds, slipping and bashing my shins at least twice. The damage is very painful, thanks for caring. I waited at the top of the stairs for some signs that my brother was still alive, when I hear noises of distress. “The bats stuck!” Señor had gotten his tiny wing stuck between the window panes. He was immobile, and very upset. We saw this as our chance to purge the house of this adorable contagion. Once again I held the broom as my brother held the door. I got close enough to really see the lil guy. Scary large wings, but he himself was a small brown dear. Looked like a lil kiwi. My instincts told me to quickly swipe him with the broom in the direction of the door, but compassion took ahold of me. I gently poked the bristles at his wing in the pane, sliding him free. Of course he took off towards my face again. I hit the deck, hard. Only raising my head when I heard the front door slam shut. Señor Kiwi is free, I still don’t have rabies. My brother is still going off about human sacrifice for the sake of dogkind. I’m going to go meditate.