A Sweeping Generalization
You can't keep dodging like this -- you're running out of cockroach juice. Er, by which I mean "energy," not "the vile secretions that cockroaches brew within themselves," and certainly not "a bunch of cockroaches in a blender." Gah. Anyway, how are you going to get out of this?
|Scamper past the woman (1)|
You figure you can dodge the broom pretty easily, and it's not like it can hurt you, anyway. You're a cockroach -- you're even more invulnerable than a tick. You scamper between the woman's foot and head for the door.
Wait, didn't she have two feet just a minute ago? You distinctly remember a shoe with a pretty dangerous looking stiletto hee --
Well, that was anticlimactic.
|Keep dodging (1)|
You artfully dodge the broom and the woman's high-heeled shoes, making figure-eights between her feet, scampering under the fridge and back out, under the formica table and around the legs, until you finally end up under the stove.
Something doesn't smell right under there, even for a cockroach. It smells a little like sulfur, actually.
If this were a hilarious cartoon, and you were an adorable cartoon mouse, you'd light a match to see where the smell was coming from, and hilarity would ensue. But you're a hideous cockroach, and you don't have any matches, so instead you slowly suffocate.
|Head outdoors (1)|
You scamper between the woman's feet and head for the door, which is barely open a crack. You squeeze through the door and out onto the front lawn. You made it! You're free! Free to enjoy the world as only a cockroach can.
You make your way across the street and into an open field on the other side. Ah, this is the life for a cockroach: the nice warm soil, the delicious plant life, the crop duster overhead releasing billowing clouds of white powder. . .
Okay, maybe that last thing wasn't so much the life for a cockroach.
Occurs upon selecting "Scuttle towards the the woman" during Eek! Eek!