The thrill of the chase got me into it: the feeling of power as I held the weapon above her helpless form. She was wearing this black and yellow number, and it hugged the curves of her abdomen like the slut she was. I just wanted her gone. It was an animalistic feeling, the likes of which I had never felt before. Her actions had stung me, and the constant drone of her voice was more than I could bear. I crushed that bitch against the window and watched her blood trickle down the glass. No one saw me throw her body into the trash and, what’s more, no one cared. The police don’t respond to wasp-related incidents, and that’s how I knew I will get away with the next one.