Out for a duck

I have a gecko. I love her. I call her Angel. The bit that makes me feel uncomfortable, is ,choosing, which, out of the live food...is sentenced..to death...twice a week. I have wood lice...meal worms...but they don't make a sound....the crickets do.. I had a tub full. They are noisy and that makes it harder to choose...who dies...and who lives. I am not God...if one escapes the spoon of fate...they live...However, the other day...I noticed that my full tub of gecko edibles...was almost empty. Figuring cannibalism...I thought nothing of it. Made my choice easier. However..tonight...after a long day...I sat down with a cold beer. From the kitchen came this strange noise. I went closer...figured it came from my fridge...that desperately needed defrosting...and figured the condenser was working overtime...decided to defrost it. Unplugged and sprayed with De icer...I rejoined San Miguel....5 minutes later...the same noise. As realisation hit me...I realised that I recognised the sound...It was the distress  call of a cricket...or crickets...and my fridge was fine. I shudder as they think that they had a very clever escape committee ..and now ...wait their time...in my kitchen...building strength on discarded chips and toast...waiting...waiting...to get me!@! Arghhh