Balcony of death, jar of no return

Ah, fall is lovely. The crisp air, the first yellow and orange leaves, my little bear peeking over the edge of a potful of mums... clear blue skies... wait - what's that - NOOOoooooooo!

Stink bug! Invaders of my peace, they just won't leave me alone. They keep on coming, landing on the screen door, each one with its little thwack, thwack, thwack. They don't hear the screams of the ones who came before, who shout, "don't come here! 'Tis the balcony of death!"

And so it is. My weapons of war are always near - the soapy jar and the squirt bottle.

But the stinky things keep on coming, ignoring the cries of their fallen loved ones, "No honey, turn around! They've got soapy water and they're not afraid to use it!"

Indeed.

Look no further

Unless you are prepared for

The balcony of death

and

The jar of no return.