ugh it's the way they move, seriously makes me want to fucking die.
when I lived in Exton, I opened the cabinet above the stove, one of them ran out, slid down the hood of the stove and landed in my shirt. I ripped all my clothes off in like .001 seconds and was running around screaming and bugging the fuck out. For the rest of the night, every time I felt my hair brush against my neck, I would be screaming and smacking at myself. fuuuuck that. If that happened again, I would probably have an anxiety attack and pass out.