Messier Objects that strike fear into my heart (thing)

Oregon Star Party, face pressed against the telescope's eyepiece, a sinister shape in a field of snowy pinpricks of light. An evil eye, looking right back at me, watching me as I squirm. The end of a hellish tube, ready to suck up and devour my poor, insignificant soul. Always up there, always in the sky, always looking over me, waiting, preparing for the one night when it will crush me like the worthless scrawny little bug that I am.