When I was quite little, my family took a trip to Disneyworld. At the end of a very long day that had included upwards of 17 go-rounds on the Peter Pan ride, my exhausted family was slumped in the line to catch a monorail (fastest ride at Disney) back to our car. As we stood huddled with a mass of strangers, kept away from the rail by a guard (doing his best impression of his Buckingham Palace brothers) and a velvet rope, a giant–I mean GIANT–cockroach crawled out of a crack in the pavement. It terrorized the crowd (scariest ride at Disney) by parading back and forth in front of us, pausing occasionally, and being an insect. People were gasping. Babies were crying. And then, out of nowhere, a solitary foot struck out and smashed it flat.
I don't know who that monorail guard was, but I know if I met him today, there isn't much I wouldn't be willing to do for him.