A right little aerosol

It was small but evil; the worst kind. Something bigger would have signalled its presence, progress and location. Something bigger would have been slower to react.... easier to catch.

It was so brazen, taunting us, playing catch around the bed, but too fast for my hand. When it sat on my head, well that was the last straw. Death was the only answer. Death would be can-shaped.

"There!" Phhhhhht! "Dammit! Missed!"

"Wait for it..." Phhhhhht! "Scheissen! It's too quick!"

Phhhhhht!... Phhhhhht!... Phhhhhht!... Phhhhhht!... Phhhhhht!

[Thinks...] 'Don't aim where it is but where it'll be...'

Phhhhhht!

"Geronimo... you little bastard!"