Todd didn't realize how gooey the cockroach smashed to the floor and his shoe was until he took a step, and slipped and landed on his back. He wasn't wearing a shirt. He cursed as the gooey mess formerly a cockroach, and before that a jock called Chad, smeared against his bare skin. He struggled to reach to scrape it off. It seemed to burn and itch simultaneously. He didn't know what to do.
He began to sweat profusely, and by the time he got back on his feet wet stains soaked his shorts. He cursed mildly. He was feeling weak and feverish. He muttered, "From a cockroach? Nah! Must've banged my head on the concrete. Maybe a concussion? Gotta - uh, gotta- find someone...
He lurched against Chad's locker, and saw the spray can.
"Need tuh cuhl off," he mumbled shaking the spray.
He depressed the button and blew a bit of the spray in front of his nose.