I'm a Stone Cold Killer

We have a bit of an ant problem in our kitchen right now. They're not taking over the place or anything, but they love my little compost scraps bucket, so I've had to move it outside which is a pain in the ass because I'm intrinsically lazy and don't want to bring it in every time I cook a meal OR empty it every time I cook.
The trouble for me with pests, is that I anthropomorphise EVERYHING from the rat we killed last month to the snails, slugs and earwigs that plague my veggie patch. I become wracked with guilt whenever I kill any of these little invaders and the ants are no different.

For the past week, every time I've gone into the kitchen, no matter how sparkling the counters are, there have been up to ten ants scurrying around in this little spot on the counter. After a pasta dinner the other night, I went in to clean up and found a gang of the little sods looking for crumbs. I brushed them all to the floor and squashed them under foot.

Then I saw it.

A huge crumb of parmesan cheese being carried by one single solitary ant, hurrying back to his mates to show off, only to find that they'd all gone.

I swear I could see the panic on his little face when he returned to their little patch and he was all alone.

And then came down the had of God.

And he got brushed to the floor and stomped.

And I still feel like a dick.