It's apparently a stag beetle and it's no wonder he's going stag; he's a jerk.

I was getting the mail (we have a box attached to our house) and it's up too high for me to see into the box. So, as usual, I stuck my hand in there blindly. After getting out the letters, I felt something crinkly, like a candy wrapper at the bottom of the box. I grabbed it and it dug into my finger.

Your brain can work so fast that in one second I thought all of these things:
- Ow, it's a binder clip and it's pinching me.
- No, it feels more like a pushpin.
- Why is there a pushpin in the mailbox?
- I didn't grab it hard enough to break skin, but it sure feels like it's breaking skin.
- Let go, moron.
- Hey, it's not letting go of me!

I yanked my hand out and saw a huge (2 inches long) beetle stuck in my finger. I screamed and shook it off; Trevor screamed and ran into the house. Then I had to go in and pretend for his sake that it was the funniest thing ever. But I was sure I was going to die from the venomous bite.