Garden, Summer Evening

Although I am proud of my yarden, I am simultaneously horrified at the huge quantities of orange slugs that I appear to be breeding here.
There were three 3-inchers out there this evening, and I realise that what is encouraging them is the compost heap. The toad used to live there because it's warm (I haven't seen it for ages: do you think the slugs have gobbled it up?).
They are good-for-nothings and too monstrous for me to take on with salt, pellets or beer.
In the end, I scoop them up with plastic plant pots and throw them away with the rubbish, which I tell myself is humane relocation.
Somewhere in the middle of Hertfordshire, they are growing to epic proportions, rumbling massively down narrow country roads at the dead of night with their all-seeing eyes fixed on small rodents and helpless drunkards stumbling home after a night at the hostelry.
Beware death by slurp!!!!