Oh my, in my hurry I might have misread the prompt-word, but here, have it anyway:

She hates them, those vile little crawlers and creepers and sneakers, with their - how many? - well, too many legs. They get in everywhere: the storage-room, the cupboards and the kitchen-sink, in the flour, the cornflakes or hazelnuts.    
She can batter or poison or banish them, they always come back, or their brothers or their aunts or their brother's and sister's children... This filty little insectous pack!  

Celine shivers as she takes the flattened bug outside. And they don't even make a great meal with their sharp chitine-shells, their spiky antennae and their miniscule size.

Fish are so different!