Mr. Silverfish on my wall,
I don't like you; not at all.
Yes, I'm nearly six feet tall,
but you have more feet than them all.
Just stay where you are, you nasty little creature.
You spawn of satan.
Product of the Fall.
Stay where you are and I won't touch you, and you won't get out of my kleenex and crawl (faster than a Nebraska cockroach) up my arm.
In fact, stay where you are until morning so that you can get out of Richard's kleenex and crawl up Richard's arm. I think Richard would handle that a lot better than I would.