“Father, I am grateful that you mounted my mother and impregnated her with me and my brothers and sisters here present.”
Could it be that this little guy is talking the right words? Could it be that this is just what the General needs to hear?
“Dad, I am proud of you. I will make you proud too. Let me introduce you to my partner, Lady Gigi.”
There are moments in life where the floor not only gives in but the fall that ensues is one that never ends.
“I can’t recall seeing a bug that looks like her,” the General says, now feeling concerned though he doesn’t know how or why, “what is she? Couldn’t you find your own sorts?”
“She’s a Lilliputian chameleon,” the General’s son says.
“This is exactly what I feared.”
“You’re soon going to be a grand-pa, Dad.”
The General’s mouth open but he can’t utter a sound.
And, as the world goes round and words-that-hurt and words-that-sooth are spoken amongst the small gathering of insects, there is a pause in the fight between power seeking bugs because Shinybeet, who so far remained cautious so as not to err into petty squabbles and useless battles, finally comes out with the end of his speech. Although he had originally intended it to be remembered by all, one that generations of beetles, spiders and them-interbred-bits-of-bugs might have learned by heart, he realizes now that it will merely establish his presence in this cage as a leader of some kind and that respect may be gained:
To be continued…