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featherynscaleThis entire entry is classified "Asterisk - historical fact."
Last night, after having had an utterly ludicrous conversation with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kittenpants and triadruid regarding the nature of MUDs and the use of elephants therein, I wandered downstairs to go to bed at the entirely ungodly hour of 2:30 a.m. And lo, what to my wandering eyes should appear but a Thing that was apparently delivered to my room to be endured as penance for the sins of the previous conversation (those sins mostly being grievous affronts to elephants, in case you're keeping score).
It was an insect, but not any standard issue sort of insect - this was clearly a custom job commissioned for some circle of hell and never paid for by the demon who'd ordered it (demons being notoriously difficult to collect from once the product is in hand).
It was between two and three inches long, tiger-striped, and gifted with antennae and upwards of thirty legs. Not short, wriggly centipede legs, which would have been bad enough, but full-on insectoid legs, skinny and lanky and doubled over at the midsection so that an individual leg of this beast was longer than the beast itself.
It was really this last that bothered me. I will be the first to admit that I am a leg bigot. The more legs you have, the less likely I am to desire your company**. Two is ideal, four is acceptable. Six crosses an undefineable line into hostile territory, but I can still deal with the six-legged creatures. (I am from Florida, after all, where the palmetto bugs grow to the size of your foot, and the mosquitos are large enough to stick a soda straw up your nose and suck out your brains in the Egyptian style.) Eight is right out, and an octoped is likely to be destroyed on sight. Centipedes are the stuff of nightmares. And this thing, this thing didn't even have the decency to be a centipede. It was an Atomic Mutant.
So I did what any reasonable human being would do under the circumstances. I went for backup.kittenpants was already in the bath by the time I wrenched my morbid fascination away from the monster on my ceiling and went back upstairs, so triadruid gamely volunteered to come downstairs and vanquish the menace. "Be careful - it's an Atomic Mutant," I warned him.
So he went forth, and was duly fascinated by the grotesque Thing for a time, after which he declared, "It's not an Atomic Mutant, it's just a bug. It's a really cool-looking bug, in fact." I shook my head sadly. "No," I said, "it's an Atomic Mutant. You'll see."
And thentriadruid spoke unto the fiend, saying, "Sorry, man, it's you or her, and she's got better tits." With this inspired battle cry, he valiantly went forth, and squooshed it with a cardboard box. It was at this point that he noticed that some of the legs had become detatched from the body of the monster, and wer proceeding to move about on top of the box, wiggling and bending as if still connected to something with motive force. We stared. We wrinkled our noses. Neither of us spoke.
At last,triadruid shrugged. "I'm sorry," he said, "I was wrong. It was an Atomic Mutant, after all."
** - Note: The correspondence of legs to attitude does not apply to water-dwelling or seaside creatures, for whatever reason. I will happily eat a crab, lobster or crayfish, and am generally interested in these creatures even when alive. Octopi and squid are fascinating, although I suppose that tentacles are in a different class than legs, and should not be considered in the same way.
Last night, after having had an utterly ludicrous conversation with
kittenpants and triadruid regarding the nature of MUDs and the use of elephants therein, I wandered downstairs to go to bed at the entirely ungodly hour of 2:30 a.m. And lo, what to my wandering eyes should appear but a Thing that was apparently delivered to my room to be endured as penance for the sins of the previous conversation (those sins mostly being grievous affronts to elephants, in case you're keeping score). It was an insect, but not any standard issue sort of insect - this was clearly a custom job commissioned for some circle of hell and never paid for by the demon who'd ordered it (demons being notoriously difficult to collect from once the product is in hand).
It was between two and three inches long, tiger-striped, and gifted with antennae and upwards of thirty legs. Not short, wriggly centipede legs, which would have been bad enough, but full-on insectoid legs, skinny and lanky and doubled over at the midsection so that an individual leg of this beast was longer than the beast itself.
It was really this last that bothered me. I will be the first to admit that I am a leg bigot. The more legs you have, the less likely I am to desire your company**. Two is ideal, four is acceptable. Six crosses an undefineable line into hostile territory, but I can still deal with the six-legged creatures. (I am from Florida, after all, where the palmetto bugs grow to the size of your foot, and the mosquitos are large enough to stick a soda straw up your nose and suck out your brains in the Egyptian style.) Eight is right out, and an octoped is likely to be destroyed on sight. Centipedes are the stuff of nightmares. And this thing, this thing didn't even have the decency to be a centipede. It was an Atomic Mutant.
So I did what any reasonable human being would do under the circumstances. I went for backup.
kittenpants was already in the bath by the time I wrenched my morbid fascination away from the monster on my ceiling and went back upstairs, so triadruid gamely volunteered to come downstairs and vanquish the menace. "Be careful - it's an Atomic Mutant," I warned him. So he went forth, and was duly fascinated by the grotesque Thing for a time, after which he declared, "It's not an Atomic Mutant, it's just a bug. It's a really cool-looking bug, in fact." I shook my head sadly. "No," I said, "it's an Atomic Mutant. You'll see."
And then
triadruid spoke unto the fiend, saying, "Sorry, man, it's you or her, and she's got better tits." With this inspired battle cry, he valiantly went forth, and squooshed it with a cardboard box. It was at this point that he noticed that some of the legs had become detatched from the body of the monster, and wer proceeding to move about on top of the box, wiggling and bending as if still connected to something with motive force. We stared. We wrinkled our noses. Neither of us spoke.At last,
triadruid shrugged. "I'm sorry," he said, "I was wrong. It was an Atomic Mutant, after all." ** - Note: The correspondence of legs to attitude does not apply to water-dwelling or seaside creatures, for whatever reason. I will happily eat a crab, lobster or crayfish, and am generally interested in these creatures even when alive. Octopi and squid are fascinating, although I suppose that tentacles are in a different class than legs, and should not be considered in the same way.
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no subject
Date: 2004-04-13 11:48 am (UTC)I forgot one caveat to the number of legs rule in my house. It's the number of legs that the creature comes with originally. I told Cory my rule one time when he was bringing a cricket inside. He promptly started removing legs from the cricket (not so good if you're the cricket, I'm guessing). He'll grow up to be a good rules lawyer, he can find the loophole in any rule.
Cory's rules-lawyering
Date: 2004-04-13 12:58 pm (UTC)Re: Cory's rules-lawyering
Date: 2004-04-13 02:15 pm (UTC)The next discussion was about how the cricket probably didn't appreciate that.
Pretty soon after that I picked up a bug box. The new rule is that the bugs must stay in the bug box when inside the house. It's worked pretty well up until we hit silk worm season. Those little buggers chew right through the mesh, so it had to be disposed of. (Which reminds me that I need to go pick up something along those lines for the most recent silkworm addition currently languishing in a ziploc bag with some air holes punched in it.)
Ah! The things I'll do for my children...