Chapter 4: Mukade

"Japan is a very friendly place."
I've heard this a hundred times, but I never realized the all-encompassing meaning behind that phrase. Even the BUGS aren't afraid to get all up in your face and welcome you to Japan. Since I've been here, I've killed enough bees, crickets and flies to be qualified as an amatuer exterminator. I share my apartment with three large spiders(that I know of) and actually keep them around to keep the insect population under control.
It's safe to say that, back in Vegas, all arthropods adopt the "live and let live" philosophy and tend to keep to themselves, which is great because just about the only kind of spider there is the black widow. Out here, you see them everywhere: on the bridge, in your house, in the trees, and even at school, but none of them are poisonous.
Except mukade
Mukade are a type of poisonous centepede. Apparently, they like to drop from the ceiling onto the heads of unsuspecting sleepers, or hide in the tatami and ambush tender bare feet. Their bite may not be deadly, but it is very painful, and will leave you with a swollen appendage for some time.
The other night, I awoke to a tickly sensation on my arm. Reaching out, I grabbed something squirmy and threw it. I turned on the light to see a small, half-dead centepede writhing on my tatami. I imediately thought this was the mukade, and prepared for the killing ritual.
Killing mukade is a lot like killing a vampire in the West. There's a lot of folklore behind it. Many Japanese say that you should never step on mukade, for it will call more. Likewise, you cannot burn them. If you cut one in half, the head will still come after you. You must either boil it in water or submerge it in oil. In this way, the mukade cannot call out, and so you are safe.
I had no oil, and it would take too long to boil the water, so I flushed it. Take THAT, mukade.
Later, I found out that what I had slain was not a mukade, but a house centepede. Apparently, mukade are bigger.