So on my last shopping run in Panama City, I came across an insecticide I’d never heard of before. It’s called PLAGATOX. Now mind you, there were lots of other brands of insecticides on the shelf. All the old-school favorites, Raid, Black Flag, Baygon, but PLAGATOX got my attention and nothing else mattered.
Really now, there couldn’t be a more perfect name for an insecticide than PLAGATOX. I was immediately captivated by the name. For the first time in ages, I’d been successfully marketed to. I was a mind-numbed consumer again.
Anyway, since my acquisition of PLAGATOX, the name has become a significant part of Andiamo’s vernacular. Now, when Karen or I spot a fleeing cucaracha, instead of shouting “Get the bug spray!” we simply say, “PLAGATOX! PLAGATOX!”. It has become our new war cry. Even funnier, instead of yelling “Kill it! Kill it!”, we now say “PLAGATOX it! PLAGATOX it!”.
I can hear the obvious questions: Does PLAGATOX work? Does it live up to its deathly name? The answer is yes. Although, however, I noticed that it works slowly. Hit a fleeing cucaracha, and it’ll go a few feet as if nothing happened. A few feet farther than he would have under the barrage of Raid or Baygon. Then, he’ll inevitably slow down, lose coordination, flip over on its back and wriggle and twitch to a ghastly expiration filled with suffering. After a few observations, I surmised that PLAGATOX was intended to work this way. But that’s just speculative theory on my part.
Now if I can just find some more cucarachas.