I always just go and smash in their ant hill. Then I watch them squirm and try to rebuild it. I tried drowning them but those black ants can swim and evade the flood. Damn ants
One time when we were little, me and my siblings built what we called "Antzwisch", a glorified ant concentration camp. It had little traps for the ants, some of which was inspired by Viet-Cong stuff we read (like we made little holes, put toothpicks in them, and put grass over the holes), we had poison food, even the good ole' magnifying glass, but most importantly, we had the "SQUISHER".
I can't exactly remember how we built the squisher, but I remember that the buisness end was a flowerpot.
One particular Squisher death sticks out in my mind. It had rained prior to the Ant Holocaust so the area was a bit muddy. A lone black ant, for whatever reason, ran into the squisher range. The order was issued, and the flowerpot went down.
Ever see one of those cartoons where Wile E. Coyote gets embedded in the cliff and you see a hole that's exactly his shape? That's what happened here. He was wiggling around in a sort of death seizure, so we used our magnifying glass and finished him off.
At the end of the day, the deaths numbered in the hundreds. We were about to put the dead in the furnace (a re-christened EZ-Bake Oven) but our parents told us to quit torturing innocent creatures and to put our shit away. f*ckin' hippies.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the rise, heyday, and fall of the Fourth Reich.