Bugs 8

A peach had fallen from the tree. It was slowly decomposing into slop.

“Look at all that chaos,” said the littlest earwig. “Ants all over the place, pillbugs inside and out, a slug and some strange beetles who nobody even recognizes – it’s a regular frenzy!”

“Savages,” agreed the larger earwig.

“All that peach, so much of it going to waste. There won’t be much of it left tomorrow and only the worst dregs at that.”

“I’ll bet it tastes pretty good,” said the larger earwig.

“Oh, yes, probably. I tasted a peach once; I happened upon a little chunk knocked loose by a bird – it was divine. It’s a real shame – that peach getting eaten by a bunch of ants and pillbugs.”

“And slugs.”

“Yes and slugs, dreadful things, they’ll eat anything – don’t even appreciate a windfall when they find one,” the little earwig was plaintive.

“Stupid idiots,” said the larger earwig and frowned accordingly.

“Indubitably. I’d be up there letting them all know where they all stand in the great scheme of things if I was any good with crowds.”

“Yeah, crowds are the worst,” the big earwig agreed.

“Ants all over the place – it would be unavoidable – just trying to keep them off of you. They’d be crawling all over,” the little earwig shuddered. “And the pushing, oh the pushing. Slipping and jostling in the sticky, trodden, mucky juices. Why you’d have to dig just to get something fresh.”

“And who wants to dig with all that pushing going on?”

“Exactly,” agreed the littlest earwig, “who has the patience for such bother? Still, it’s a shame.”

“A real shame,” his friend agreed.

“Oh no,” the littlest earwig exclaimed.

“What?”

“Look – that messy little pillbug – he’s rolled off into the dirt and now he’s headed in our direction.”

“Oh no,” agreed the larger earwig.

The little pill bug, sticky with peach juice and lightly dusted in powder-fine garden dirt, ambled away from the peach feast, amicably satiate and widely grinning.

“Hello,” he said, drawing near the dour pair.

“Oh?” the littlest earwig crooked his mouth and widened his eyes.

“That’s quite a peach,” the pillbug continued, apparently not satisfied with passing in peace.

“I’m sure it is,” said the little earwig.

“You don’t like peach? There’s plenty for everyone,” the pillbug asked gladly.

“Right,” the little earwig sniggered.

“Right,” the big earwig snorted.

“Right,” the pillbug chirruped, “and it’s so tasty.”

“Plenty of peach if you don’t mind fighting ants and slugs for it,” the littlest earwig said slyly.

“Oh the ants aren’t fighting,” the pillbug laughed, “they’re just excited. They really like a good, sweet peach. Boy is it sweet. Well, anyhow, good day,” said the pillbug and then he left.

“Look at him,” said the little earwig after the pillbug had departed.

“Pathetic, ignorant creature; I pity him. But I suppose his ignorance is bliss – he doesn’t know what he is missing. To him a day mucking around with a swarm of ants and picking through slug slime is just peachy.”

“Peachy keen,” agreed the earwig.