Said the Casby – this house has no insects and this is generally a good thing. And there was much happiness and eating of marshmallows.
Behold one Spring morning, when the Casby did find in his living room a brown beetle who had not technically been invited for breakfast.
Lo! Said the Casby. You are a brown beetle and this is most disturbing.
Please, said the beetle. I am not an insect for killing or disposing of in horrific fashion. I am a nice pootling beetle who begs mercy and wishes only to be on his merry way.
The Casby did furrow his brow and ponder the beetle’s plea. Very well beetle. Being nice and non-flying without such sounds as buzz and zip you are not my enemy. And the Casby did let the beetle pootle and it did pootle.
Behold one Spring night, when Casby did awake feeling much pain and itch and rage.
Argh! He did say, but not in the piratical sense at all of Arr, more Ungh where one is greatly vexed at a thing unpleasant.
And the Casby did bolt from his bed and with much itching leg and saw he an odd insect that buzzed and zipped and appeared as a moth mixed with mosquito from hell.
Grr. Said the Casby. You are a moth mixed with mosquito and have bitten me. I am much a-raged.
What say you, mosquito-moth?
Ha! I am a moth-mosquito that does buzz and zip and I shall not answer to you, the Casby.
Moth-mosquitoes are being of a proud defiant race who shall not beg or plead or pootle for your amusement.
Great was the Casby’s anger. The moth-mosquito and the Casby did battle fiercely and as dawn broke the moth-mosquito was muchly dead and splattered in several distinct locations. Such was the wrath of the Casby.
You have taunted and defied me and thus there shall be a doom upon all your kind, moth-mosquito. Never shall the Casby rest while there are sisters of your ilk buzzing and zipping about my home.
And so, for many a day, there was a moth-mosquito and Casby war fought vehemently, apparently on both sides. As many a moth-mosquito was destroyed, so was there a bite upon the Casby that did pain and itch, bringing much increase to the Casby’s rage.
I hate moth-mosquitoes! Said the Casby, even as his mercy paid conscience to his heart leading to much moth-mosquito capture and releases as a less murderous solution to annihilating his mortal enemy.
Moth-mosquitoes found before bedtime, or after a bite, were instantly killed. There would be no mercy for culprits of bites on the leg or arm and on one horrific morning – on the right hand which caused much worry for the fate of the Casby’s fingers and enormous pain for several long dark days.
The moth-mosquitoes, as were now less numerous from either deaths or captures and releases, became less visible. The Casby grew more calm, as for one long summer month no weekly bites nor buzzing and zipping were heard across the home.
Lo! The ceasefire it was broken. A fine summer morning, and the Casby did awake at six am in agony from a bite on his left hand, this being the hand with which left-handed people do things of which the Casby was one.
ARGH! Did the Casby scream, being vexed beyond measure. Surely, I will destroy all moth-mosquitoes in this world to end my pain!
And the Casby did find and collect six moth-mosquitoes that day into one jar and hold them prisoner for the day while he worked with one hand unable to write or type in an office usually known for common writing or typing.
Fuelled by great hurt, the Casby did return home that day plotting to murder and do much harm. Determined to round up all culprits, he did toss up-side his bed and cupboards and desks,
desperate to discover more moth-mosquitoes that did displeasure him so.
Aha! Said the Casby as he did check the region of his mattress closest to where his left hand had been the previous painful night.
You! Another proud, disrespectful moth-mosquito that does buzz and zip and generally nuisance herself before causing great pain to me. You shall die worstest for your insolence this day!
Preened the moth-mosquito. You, the Casby, have killed many and captured and released others of my kind. You can do no greater harm to me now – I do weep for those who have died by your hand and even further for those in your jar captured to meet a worse fate. Kill me if you will, for I am proud and do buzz and zip and despise you with all my heart. You are an awful fool, the Casby.
The Casby did pause. A fool you call me? At the moment of death you still are proud and buzz and zip and defile my home, and fool you call me?
The moth-mosquito did nod and laugh an insane, lamenting laugh of despair.
Yes. You are a fool. We moth-mosquitoes are also. There be a wiser enemy than ourselves who hath brought war to this home for so long a time. All for nothing. This I have discovered today, and as sacrifice of myself I have waited here to show you the truth of our rage.
And the moth-mosquito did point at a pootling brown beetle not one arm length from his general position.
Gasped the Casby – you are the pootling brown beetle! What say you? Why be here where there is war and calamity and danger. You I freed to pootle on your pleading and respectful way that does not buzz and zip and make nuisance of yourself.
Fool! The moth-mosquito did laugh before the pootling beetle could silence her or escape far far away. That brown beetle does not buzz or zip or look fearsome as I do, but make nuisance and be vile it most known for is. That be not a pootling beetle. A bed bug have caused our catastrophe!
The Casby did furrow his brow and (with help from the wise moth-mosquito) did Wikipedia “bed bug“.
Eep! The Casby did eep as a bed bug picture did perfectly match the brown pootling beetle who seemed so sweet and pootling at the time long long ago.
‘Sup – the brown beetle did say, now blushing with mixed fear and amusement, having brought such great pain and monstrous anger to the Casby and moth-mosquitoes.
And so, there followed much searching and checking and relief as thankfully no nests or traces or other brown beetles were found. A trial, being held before both the Casby and the surviving moth-mosquitoes was held, with toy ducks and other plastic figures in attendance to witness this momentous event.
The motive – blood. The cause – a chance pootle that did have the fortunately male non egg-laying beetle find itself about the Casby’s belongings, alone and transported to a new home beside Casby’s bed.
The plea – guilty, with much hissing and venom and no further deception of begging, respect or pootling. If the bed bug had means to buzz and zip that day most certainly it would have, such was its spiteful glee.
The verdict unnecessary, the sentence – death. A Poetic end to the war as the Casby did furrow his brow and weigh the beetle against his debt to the wailing mosquitoes, such guilt and regret upon him.
Beetle – nay – bed bug, you hath harmed so many and angered so far that no life or mercy shall be granted to you. As small compensation for their troubles, you bed bug shall be placed in the capture jar with these surviving moth-mosquitoes, who will at their leisure then carry out the sentence.
Argh! The bed bug did exclaim as dropped he was into a jar of rabid mosquitoes who did quite properly do him great harm and death.
Said the Casby – moth-mosquitoes, who are clearly such quite moth but perhaps not quite so much mosquito now that I look closer and think about it properly, you are all free to depart. If I shall find a sister of your kind here with a buzz and a zip I shall capture and remove but never kill again for that is not a very nice thing.
Farewell the Casby, did the moths-sort-of-but-probably-not-mosquitoe
I’m sorry I called you a fool, the final, brave whistle-blower sort-of-moth did say.
That is quite alright, sort-of-moth. The Casby he has learned a lesson and if a bite were ever to happen again no further rage shall be directed at those of your sisters. My guilt is great, this I shall live with and learn from. Wikipedia is quite good.
Yes. Quite good. And the moth then did leave with some happiness having saved many captured friends and family.