Called the po-lice.

The other night when I got home late, I had to run by the drugstore that's open 24 hours and is like a block from my house, and when I was coming back, this fat 20-something (white) D&D-looking guy with long brownish-blonde hair and a moustache and a goatee and huge headphones over his ears was (presumably) singing along with whatever was on his iPod, and singing at the absolute top of his lungs some (presumably) heavy metal song with lyrics about they want to breed us and feed us when they need us, and just staring straight ahead as he walked down the street.

When I got in my house, I saw a spot on the wall and it was a very small silverfish, so I took off my sandal and crushed it; it was high above the radiator in the far corner of the living room, and I had to raise my sandal a bit over my head to get it.

Then, I opened up a window to get some air, and the guy was returning down the street singing at the top of his lungs, and since it had been going on for like at least 10 minutes and it was almost 2am, I called the po-lice on him and gave them his appearance and what street he was going down at the present moment.