Malta – A Roaches Tale [Part One]

On Paper:

We outlived the dinosaurs, my great-great Grandmother survived a nuclear explosion and my father lived for a record breaking two weeks without his head. As for me, I have lived everyday of my life in the hotel, Beach Gardens in Malta, and up until this month I had never faced any problems…

My name is Courtney.

In Reality:

It was the morning of September 4th  when I was having my daily scuttle – training for the upcoming nuclear war and I spotted four humans in my bedroom. I guessed they were British as they’d only been in the country for one night and already had a McDonald’s and were now moaning about their surroundings – apparently my bedroom wasn’t quite how it had been advertised.

They knew nothing. I have been spreading bacteria in that hotel for years and always had reviews off the scale – me and my mates even got a shout out once:

I observed the four females and got to grips with my new room mates; one was in severe need of elocution lessons, another was very tall and seemed the most emotional of the four, another looked like she’d already been on eight holidays plus a night on the sun, and the last one wore a hat that said “DD” which I can only assume stood for ‘Desperate’ – no human wore a pair of shorts that short and was comfortable and confident with their life.

As I watched them getting ready for a day of sight seeing, The Tall One noticed my presence and as predicted went mental.

The Tall One: “OH MY FUCKING GOD THERE’S A COCKROACH!! WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE”
The Tanned One: “SLAP IT WITH THE FLIP FLOP!!
The Welsh One: “WE NEED SOMETHING STRONGER!”
The Desperate One: “THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!!!!”

I was chased across the room and flip flops were thrown as I sought solace in my porch. They covered my entrance with a blanket and tissue covered in toothpaste thinking the mint would gas me out. I can survive without a head…

The four left the hostel (I had already escaped, idiots) and I followed them to our Capital…

They made their way through the town, sneaking into Palace tours they hadn’t paid for

And then being escorted out of those Palace Tours for criminal behaviour.

They posed outside famous monuments.

And after a few more hours of posing…

They returned to the hotel and began getting ready for their first evening on ‘The Strip’. The Desperate One living up to her name, wearing a lacy cardigan backwards with no bra – feigning ignorance she believed this was a top.

They pre-drank a bottle of what they called, ‘Cherry Lambrini’

And took a few thousand ‘selfies’.

And one more in front of some wallpaper they pretended was the view outside their bedroom window.

Whilst I took this opportunity to take a photo of myself outside the actual bedroom window

Then they hit ‘The Strip’. I’d heard rumours of these so call ‘Brits Abroad’ and as I watched their eyes widen at the BOGOF deals on Mojitos I knew these were that breed…

Once all the Mojitos had run dry, they moved on to a club where they came across their male counterparts…

The majority of the Maltgeezers were taken, but there were two who were still without a mate. The Tall One spotted her victim and within minutes had thrown the keys to The Tanned One:

“I’M OFF TO BE A WHORE”

Leaving the final single “Maltgeezer” Bruce, with the others. Bruce was a ‘proper Geezer’, he caressed both The Tanned One’s, and Desperates One’s back, whispering the same chat up line to each:

“What would you do if I leaned in and kissed you right now…”

But after a few more shots – Bruce had become a firm favourite.

He even managed to get The Tanned One’s Snapchat before departing. The three remaining girls drank all the shots, washing them down with gin and tonics. The Desperate One began lifting her cardigan at every occasion getting whipped cream licked off her nipples whilst the other two jumped on the bar and began smashing everything.

The bouncers came rushing over and immediately escorted them off the premises. But their night wasn’t to end there. The Welsh One became angry, terrorising the locals…

Whilst The Tanned One stood shaking at the hotel reception, unable to block the constant stream of dick pics from Bruce. However The Desperate One had vanished. I returned to my bedroom assuming she would be in there, but when I arrived all that remained was her shoes…

 

To be continued…

 

Malta – A Roaches’ Revenge (Part Two)

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s