Bugs 4

“Oh, everybody hates a slug,” the slug bemoaned.

“Now, now, that can’t be true, said the earwig, pulling his head out from beneath a crispy brown fallen leaf.

“Oh, but it is – the slug wailed. Everybody hates a slug and they do nasty things to me.”

“What do they do?” asked the pill bug who was attentively commiserative.

“Everything!” the slug wailed. Noting the expectant expressions of the others, she continued, “Just earlier today a couple of beetles poked me!”

“Oh, my – they poked you?” the earwig expressed his disbelief. “For no good reason?”

“None whatsoever! I was just minding my own business – eating some succulents and making small talk.”

“Small talk?” the earwig asked. “What, in particular, was the subject of your discourse?”

“Oh, I don’t remember now.”

“Well, what did they say?”

“ ‘Get out of here you! You sniveling slug!’ They called me a sniveling slug! Oh why does everyone hate me?”

“Why would they call you a sniveling slug?”

“I don’t knooow!” the slug whined lugubriously – striking a particularly piteous pitch that caused the pill bug and the earwig to simultaneously shudder.

“Now, now, don’t cry,” the earwig solicited.

“I’m not crying!” the slug wailed. “I just wish everyone wouldn’t hate me!”

“Now, now, you can’t say everyone hates you” –

“Everyone!” the slug bellowed, cutting short the earwig’s consolation.

“Come now, we don’t hate you,” he offered and the pill bug nodded officiously.

“Yes you do,” the slug blubbered. “Everyone hates me – it’s only a matter of time before you hate me.”

“Please, give us some credit – I’m sure we two are both loath to throw our lots to the cause of hatred. Now let’s see if we can get to the root of this beetle altercation. What did you say to them before they poked you?”

The slug sniffled. “I told them to keep their dirty legs away from me.”

“My! And why did you say such a thing?”

“They were attempting to slather me in mud!” the slug shrieked.

“Mud!” repeated the pill bug.

“What’s wrong with mud, don’t slugs like mud?” the earwig asked.

“Noooo” the slug murmured, “don’t label me. Just because I’m a slug doesn’t mean I love mud. Why do people have to be so ignorant?”

“Wha – now wait” –

“What was the mud for?” the pill bug interrupted, unable to contain his curiosity.

“They said it would be good for my bruise – the ignorant brutes. You have to let a bruise breath!”

“You do?” the pill bug pondered.

“Of course!” the slug cried.

“Actually” – the earwig began but the slug began to sob and wail and he was drowned out.

“They got mud on me – I had to call them ‘dirty dung grubs’ or they would have thrown more mud on me! I’m not fast – I can’t run away. I can’t run at all – I’m a slug!”

“You called them ‘dirty dung grubs’?” the earwig exclaimed.

“Wow!” the pill bug ejaculated, quite excited.

“How did you get the bruise?” the earwig said, attempting to steer the conversation along a rational course.

“I fell out of a tree!” the slug sobbed.

“A tree!” the pill bug chirped brightly.

“Why, pray tell, were you in a tree?” the earwig asked dryly.

“For my special diet,” the slug began, sniffling.

“Slugs aren’t supposed to be in trees,” said the earwig – he just couldn’t restrain himself. His pinchers clicked with aggravation.

“I can’t eat dry leaves!” the slug announced indignantly. “I need succulents.”

“How tall was the tree?” asked the pill bug.

“Very, very tall – I was hurt very badly.”

“An egregious injustice, I’m sure,” intoned the earwig.

“Oh, why must you mock me – why must everyone hate me? It’s because I’m a slug – I know it. No one understands me! – Yeow!” the slug shrieked.

The pill bug could hardly believe his eyes. The earwig scuttled off, his pincers clicking angrily.

“He pinched me! Did you see that?” the slug shrieked, causing the pill bug to cringe.