Return of the Bug!!
Return of the Bug!!
BREAKING NEWS:
Harriet: This is Harriet Meddle, reporting live on the scene at this mass gathering in Yoketown, and, as you can see, it appears the entire citizenry of this small African city has made it here for this event. This is not a celebration but more of a warning to its citizens by the leaders of the country. If you recall, a small faction of Ghana declared independence last year and declared itself a new country—Wee Ghana. Wee Ghana has had trouble forming a rudimentary government from the onset, but today we will hear from the newly elected premier for her first speech. The upper echelons of the newly formed government and the military leaders of Wee Ghana have informed the press there is a major existential threat to this small country, and we have been warned there may be crop failure, climate disturbances, food shortages, and even loss of life in the coming hours.
Studio Anchor Jim: Thank you, Harriet. I hope you and your crew are staying as safe as possible. It looks like there are a few hundred people there. You mentioned the entire population of Yoketown is present. What is the population of Wee Ghana?
Harriet: Thanks, Jim. We’re doing the best we can under the circumstances. Basically, Yoketown is Wee Ghana. The small town of 483 people revolted last November and broke away from its mother country over a dispute over Christmas trees.
Studio Anchor Jim: Sorry, Harriet, we may be experiencing audio difficulties. It sounded like you said “Christmas trees.”
Harriet: [nods] Yes, Jim. Ghana’s official Christmas tree is the Silver Wonder. It’s an artificial tree made of silvery foil, and by law, must be between 1.5 and 2.5 meters tall, and citizens must install one no earlier than two weeks before Christmas and take it down no later than January 2nd. It’s actually a beautiful tree; it reflects the lights quite nicely. However, the citizens of Yoketown demanded real fir trees as the official Christmas tree, and a skirmish broke out between the townsfolk and the government, and as you know, they ended up seceding and forming Wee Ghana.
Studio Anchor Jim: Yes, it does sound like a lovely tree indeed. But I don’t think there are any indigenous fir trees in Ghana, Harriet. Are there?
Harriet: Okay, Jim, news to me. I’m a reporter, not an arborist.
Studio Anchor Jim: So, what is the gathering today all about? Easter eggs? [chuckles]
Harriet: It’s no laughing matter, Jim. The first premier of Wee Ghana is declaring a country-wide emergency and…
Studio Anchor Jim: Excuse me for interrupting, Harriett. Just how big is Wee Ghana?
Harriet: About the size of Baltimore in area, with a population of just under 500. There’s a lot of farmland here, Jim—butter beets and grassweed being the top exports. Also, Wee Ghana produces the world’s finest chicken wire—not only outstanding in sturdiness but aesthetically superior to any chicken wire this reporter has seen. Anyway, as I was saying, we are expecting an announcement momentarily, and the people here are worried, to put it mildly.
I have a Wee Ghanaian citizen here. Your name is Katcher?
Katchoar: No, it’s Katchoar.
Harriet: Isn’t that what I said?
Katchoar: No, you said Katcher. It’s Katchoar.
Harriet: Katcher.
Katchoar: No, Katchoar. You have to lift your tongue a little at the end and then twirl it a bit.
Harriet: Katcher. Katcher. Is that right? I think I’m saying it right. Well, whatever. What do you think this major announcement is all about?
Katchoar: Well, Miss Harrient. As you know, we just elected Premier Barbara, and we trust her with all our hearts, and if she says this is important, then we must be here to see and to listen.
Studio Anchor Jim: Excuse me, Harriet. I think it’s Katchier. Or Katchieri, maybe.
[Katchoar slowly shakes his head]
Harriet: Thanks, Jim. Now, Katcher, couldn’t everyone have stayed home and watched the premier’s speech on television?
Katchoar: That’s the thing. You see, it was part of the agreement for us to become Wee Ghana—every citizen had to relinquish their TV set to the government of Ghana. And the rabbit ears.
Harriet: So, you’re saying no one owns a television set?
Katchoar: Correct. It was… how you say… bargaining chip for our independence. Also, we had to give the Ghana government our George Foreman grills. Oh, and all our Saturday Night Fever DVDs. You do what you must do.
Harriet: I see. We understand your newly elected leader, Premier Barbara, is an American. Is that right?
Katchoar: Yes, very much so. She was visiting Ghana when the trouble broke out. She could not get a plane out and was staying in Yoketown. Very nice lady, she is. Very smart lady too.
Harriet: Hmm. Why was she visiting Ghana, if I may ask?
Katchoar: Well, actually, she was flying to Egypt for to see the big triangles, but her plane was discovered with many mongooses on board. Mongeese? Which is right word? I do not know.
Harriet: I believe you mean Mongolian beef.
Katchoar: Then, much needed, the plane arrived in Ghana for emergency.
Harriet: I see. How did it come to pass that she was elected premier of Wee Ghana?
Katchoar: Oh, this is known to all Wee Ghanaians. We were having trouble finding a suitable leader—someone with gusto. You understand this?
Harriet: Yeah, gusto. Got it.
Katchoar: It was election time, but nobody was running. It was quite upsetting for our new country. So, election day come, and nobody knows who to vote for. We were all in the town square with our No. 2 pencils, ready to vote but not knowing who to vote for. Then, we hear a disturbance from Inky’s Cafe. An Americano woman was creating quite a ruckus over her order. Seems she wanted oat milk in her coffee instead of goat milk.
Harriet: Ahh.
Katchoar: We have no oat milk in Wee Ghana, Miss Harrient, but she would not hear of it. She insisted, with great emotional impact… Impact? Is it correct to say?
Harriet: Emotional impact? Sure, it makes sense. Please, continue.
Katchoar: Thank you. I’m an electrical engineer, not a linguistic. So, many people see this Americano woman creating a fuss over oat milk, and we all think to ourselves, if she make such a big deal over a coffee order, she will make a good premier. That’s it. We elect her.
Harriet: What an amazing story, Katcher. Thank you for your time. [Katchoar smiles weakly, bows, and exits the frame] So, Jim, there you have it. We are awaiting the arrival of Premier Barbara with the important announcement for the people of Wee Ghana.
Harriet Meddle, CPN News, Wee Ghana.
Studio Anchor Jim: Thank you, Harriet. That was Harriet Meddle, reporting live from Wee Ghana. We will be returning to her when the premier arrives. Now, on to other breaking news: The president’s girlfriend, porn star Misty Weathers, has put out a new perfume…
BREAKING NEWS:
Studio Anchor Jim: I’m sorry, Misty, we’ll have to leave it right there; we have some other breaking news to attend to. Maybe you can come back another time and show us the videos of your dog, Kim Chee, in all those wonderful Marvel superhero costumes. Now, we go back to Harriet Meddle in Wee Ghana. Harriet?
Harriet: Thanks, Jim. I’ve learned Premier Barbara will be speaking at 2 p.m., our time, that’s 10:16 in New York, Jim, a mere ten minutes from now. People have been beyond anxious, but the street vendors are serving up grassweed by the bushelful, and it seems to be calming them down somewhat. Right now, I have the preeminent scientist of Wee Ghana, Dr. Farko Ewezema, a natural history professor at Wee Ghana University, which just last year was the Yoketown High School. How are you, Doctor?
Dr. Farko Ewezema: Hello to you, my sweet child.
Harriet: Am I saying your name correctly? Dr. Farko Ewezema?
Dr. Farko Ewezema: Absolutely not; you’re way off the base. [chuckles] Just call me Zema, kind lady.
Harriet: Zema it is. Dr. Farko, we are right about to hear your leader speak in her first public announcement. Sources say it’s not good news. Can you shed some light on what her speech will be covering?
Dr. Farko: Yes, darling reporter. You have wonderful earlobes, by the way.
Harriet: Oh, thank you.
Dr. Farko: So, you see. There is a problem coming soon—a most devastating occurrence. How do you say in America—a shit show? [Harriet shakes her head disapprovingly off camera] No? Well, anyway, it happens every 96 years. So, you see, nobody here today has witnessed this event before. Well, except for Old Pappy Mo, but he was just pissing himself back then, only an infantile little brat, the last time it happened.
Harriet: Could you be a little more specific, Dr. Farko?
Dr. Farko: Yes, you see, when people are babies, they urinate in their panties.
Harriet: No, sorry. What happened 96 years ago, and what will happen today?
Dr. Farko: The bugs, my dear sweet pumpkin pie, the bugs. They return every 96 years to decimate the forests and the crops, and they bring pestilence and disease. Or so it is said.
Harriet: Oh, are you talking about the cicadas?
Dr. Farko: Cicadas shmicadas. These are not your silly American bugs that make a cute little noise and kamikaze themselves on your Ford Focus windscreens. No, this is a mutant monster bug capable of carrying away a small child, or even a teenager, who might be going through a phase, you know.
Harriet: [mouth agape] I can’t imagine. What are these bugs called, sir?
Dr. Farko: Bugs! We call them bugs, my tasty kumquat. Or those damn bugs. Sometimes, we call them those damn, feculent bugs. There are some people who call them bugsters, but they’re just juvenile delinquents. But most people just call them bugs, or damn bugs, or maybe those stupid-ass bugs, or…
Harriet: I get it, Doctor, I get it. So, if you say no one has seen these stupid-ass bugs for 96 years…
Dr. Farko: No one but Old Pappy Mo, but he was just…
Harriet: Yes, yes, I understand. My point is, if no one has seen these… things, why are they talking about them in such a disgraceful manner?
Dr. Farko: Ah, sugar lips, you have to understand; we teach about these insects in school, you see. Ghana’s history is still our history, even if we are now Wee Ghana. So, from grade one all the way up until they graduate in grade three, we introduce the children to the concept of a burrowing bug, which will reappear one day and wreak havoc among the nice people of the land.
Harriet: Graduate?
Dr. Farko: Yes, and then in High Elementary School, we hit them with the horrors that can happen when the bugs emerge. The carnage, the destruction, the famine—we believe the children can take it at that age. There was a report from 1928, documenting the time a bug commandeered a taxi and went on a joyride for twenty minutes with a young Malaysian couple on holiday in the back seat.
Harriet: Did they catch the damn bug?
Dr. Farko: No, love, he ran out of gas.
Harriet: I must say, Dr. Farko, you have me quite concerned. Is there anything the average citizen can do to protect themselves from this mutant bug?
Dr. Farko: You must stay vigilant, my scrumptious snickerdoodle. You must be aware of your surroundings at all times. If you see a strange bug—squash it! Squash it like there’s no tomorrow. Or… you could stay close—yes, extra close—to someone who knows about these critters. He will protect you; I guarantee it.
Harriet: Yes, that’s good advice. Tell me, sir, when do you expect these damn feculent bugs to make an appearance?
Dr. Farko: Well, if I’ve done my maths correctly—and please forgive me, I’m a history teacher, not a mathematician—I would say right around three o’clock this afternoon.
Harriet: My goodness, that’s just a little over an hour away. Will these bugs be emerging all over Wee Ghana and also Ghana?
Dr. Farko: No, dearest, they come out right over there, under that tree. [Dr. Farko points to a tree 50 yards away]
Harriet: That one tree?
Dr. Farko: Yes. We call it the Bug Tree. My colleagues and I are working on another, more appropriate name for it. How does the Stupid-Ass Bug Tree grab you?
Harriet: Hmm. What can people do to prepare right now?
Dr. Farko: Three things, my sugarplum. I would not want to be wearing a dress or a skirt like the one you have on those slim, beguiling hips. Put on some long pants and secure the cuffs with rubber bands of some sort. You don’t want those pesky buggers shooting up your legs and getting in your business. Secondly, don’t wear any kind of fragrance. You smell heavenly, dear dandelion, but those monstrous buggers will be attracted to you like a moth to an ice cream cone.
Harriet: You mean a flame—a moth to a flame.
Dr. Farko: No, you mean a flame. Have you seen the moths in Wee Ghana? They will suck down more ice cream than a snotty-nosed kid on his birthday.
Harriet: And you mentioned a third thing.
Dr. Farko: Well, it only makes sense to go inside after three o’clock. My flat is just over there, honey bun. You can do your reporting from my sleeping quarters, and you won’t have to worry about putting on any pants at all. Here, let me give you my key.
Harriet: I appreciate you taking the time to talk with us, Dr. Farko. It looks like they’re setting up for Premier Barbara to speak. I’ll throw it back to you in New York, and we’ll try to get closer to the stage for our next report.
This is Harriet Meddle, CPN News, in Wee Ghana.
Studio Anchor Jim: Thank you, Harriet. We’re going to cut away for some commercial messages, and after Premier Barbara concludes her speech we will have a round table discussion with our guest political panelists, Brooke Shields and Matt LeBlanc. Stay tuned; we will be right back.
BREAKING NEWS:
Studio Anchor Jim: Welcome back to CPN. I’m Jim Jackal. It looks like the premier of Wee Ghana is about to take the stage and give a major speech—her first—to the people of Wee Ghana. Premier Barbara, as they call her, is an American woman named Barbara Anne Bridget from Grangeburg, Alabama. She previously worked as a Pie Insertion Specialist for Granny Jane’s Sweet Potato Pie Company in Grangeburg, sliding frozen pies into those cheap boxes with the plastic windows. She is divorced with two children, sons Smith and Wesson, and, as of a few weeks ago, was living a normal life in her trailer in Grangeburg.
Let’s go back to Wee Ghana, where our assistant to the assistant to our chief foreign correspondent, Harriet Meddle, is on the scene. Harriet?
Harriet: [nods] I see you’ve done your research on Barbara Anne Bridget. Thanks a lot, Jim. Now I really don’t have much to report without repeating what you just said, so I guess we’ll just wait until the new premier of Wee Ghana takes the stage.
[Long three-quarter shot showing a perturbed Harriet and her microphone staring into the camera]
[Harriet subtly tilts her head in the direction of the crowd]
[Camera pans across the hundreds of people at the event]
Harriet: [voice over] As you can see, almost the entire population of Wee Ghana has shown up for this first-ever speech from their new leader. Oh! She likes to be called Babs, Jim. Didn’t hear that little nugget in your report, Jim. You know, sometimes you should just leave the reporting to the reporters, Jim.
Studio Anchor Jim: My apologies, Harriet. I should’ve known better, especially after our assignment in San Salvador together.
Harriet: Well, okay. Sorry I sniped at you. Wait a second… Yes, Premier Barbara is taking the stage. Let’s listen in.
[Camera pans to the stage]
[A rather hefty Premier Barbara trips but catches herself on the podium]
[Sounds of shuffling paper and microphone adjustments]
Premier Barbara: Hey y’all. Sorry I’m late. I had the derndest time gettin’ up this morning, and nobody knows how to make a waffle over there in the president house, and I was like, honey, just let me do it, soz I made waffles and bacon for all the ’portant people up in there. I just wish I had me some grape juice to wash it all down with. Y’all don’t have grape juice over here, do ya?
Anyways, how y’all doin’?
[Murmurs from the crowd]
That’s good, that’s good. Listen, I need to tell y’all somethin’ real important-like, so if you just hush up and let me say it, that’d be great. Mmkay?
First of all, I want to thank each and ever one of y’all for ’lecting me prime minster, or whatever it’s called. I ain’t never done nothin’ like this before, so y’all gotta go easy on me for a while, kay? I’m just lovin’ the fancy house you gave me with all them flowers everwhere. Course, I’m gonna miss all y’all and the nice house when I go back home next week. ’Scuse me a sec. Whatcha say, hon? [Brief interaction with Barbara’s chief counsel]
Six years! You want me up in this place for six years?! Sonuva cracker. I mean, I love ya and all, but I got to get back to my trailer and see to my chickens. I left the electricity on, for criminy’s sake! Tell ya what. I can stay an extra week, and I’ll make y’all some more waffles ’fore I go. Howzat sound?
[More murmurs from the crowd]
Now, let’s get down to bidness. I don’t know if y’all know this, but we got a big problem comin’ up in these parts. This nice gentleman over here, Dr. Farook Exzema, he done tole me we gonna get a nasty bug comin’ out the ground over here in like a hour, and it ain’t gonna be good. He say these bugs cause all sorts of mischief and mayhem, and y’all better run for yer lives. Ain’t that right, Farook?
[Dr. Farko Ewezema nods solemnly]
Do all y’all understand that? Do you understand what you gotta do?
[Prolonged confused utterances, including shouting and obnoxious caterwauling]
Hey, now! Everbody just hush up. Please settle down and put a cork in it.
[Crowd noise diminishes greatly]
Now, it’s real simple. You just gotta go back in all yer houses and stay put for a couple a days. What’s that, hon?
[Dr. Farko Ewezema whispers something in Barbara’s ear]
Okay, several days, maybe a week, max. Here, why don’t you tell ’em what they all need to do, Farook.
[Premier Barbara steps away from the microphone, almost tripping on the cord]
[Dr. Farko Ewezema addresses the crowd]
Dr. Farko: Hello, my fellow citizens of Wee Ghana. It’s nice to see everyone could make it. I just would like to say that we must be respectful to one another and not cause any unneeded panic. After all, we are all being televised on CPN News for this sad but historic event.
[Dr. Farko winks at Harriet]
What Premier Barbara said is true. Every 96 years on this day, at three o’clock, the damn feculent bug rises out of the ground to have its little babies. Oh, and also to destroy every living thing they come across.
[Murmurs from the crowd again]
Now, now. You all have known about this from your studies. Remember when you had to make papier mâché bugs in the second grade? Well, this is similar, except the damn bugs are real. And they bite. And sting. And they are capable of lifting you up and dropping you into the ocean. So, it’s important for everyone to stay inside their houses with the windows shut. If you don’t have closeable windows in your house, you can purchase my Dr. Ewezema’s Screening Installation Kit and get your windows all screened up. I’m right over there in the blue Econoline van. My lovely daughter, Marika, will be glad to assist you.
Cash, no checks.
Thank you.
[Dr. Farko Ewezema leaves the stage]
[Barbara takes the microphone again]
Premier Barbara: Okay, that’s all real good advice. At three o’clock, git yerself inside yer houses and, I don’t know, play Tiddlywinks, for all I care. If ya see a bug, call Farook on his cell phone. If ya get bit by one, Farook tells me there’s a medical team just waiting to take care of y’all. His name is Dani, and he drives that Chevy Impala over there—the one with the barber pole on the roof. See it?
That’s all I got for y’all. So, git in yer houses and pray Jesus for some good news.
If any of y’all want my autograph, just line up right over there, and I’ll sign my photo for ya.
Cash only, please.
[Camera swings over to Harriet]
Harriett: Well, there you have it—the big announcement from Wee Ghana’s first premier, most of which we already knew from my talk with Dr. Farko. But along with the bug news came a dire warning: Stay in your houses or risk the consequences. We have… [Harriet looks at her watch] …less than twenty minutes before the damn bugs make an appearance, so this reporter and cameraman are going to find some shelter. Back to you.
Studio Anchor Jim: I see you still have that watch someone gave you in San Salvador.
Harriett: I didn’t want any of my nice watches to get damaged on this assignment, Jim.
Studio Anchor Jim: Mm-hmm. So, Harriet, what is the mood of the people after hearing such daunting news?
Harriet: [Nods] Well, everyone is basically just mulling around. Nobody seems to be taking this warning with any gravitas, but then again, it could be the grassweed they’ve all been ingesting like it was 1999. Dr. Farko informed me, when you were talking with your porn star, that it has an analgesic effect, and can boost serotonin, and can even create mild hallucinations in some people. Of course, high doses may also cause irritability, nausea and vomiting, itching of the erogenous zones, uncontrollable laughter, and sticky drool. Dr. Farko also told me he has seen extreme cases where grassweed users believe they can communicate with spiders, so this whole damn stupid-ass bug thing can get quite interesting. Jim.
Studio Anchor Jim: Are you and your crew going to shelter in place as this infestation takes place?
Harriet: Well, my cameraman, Marcus, feels this bug prediction has been blown up to unbelievable proportions and is going to stay outside and get some footage and try to catch one. Wendy, my producer, is going to stay at Dr. Farko’s apartment for the time being, and as for me, I haven’t decided yet. I guess when I see a damn feculent bug, I’ll take some sort of defensive action.
This is Harriet Meddle, CPN News, reporting live from Wee Ghana.
Studio Anchor Jim: Thanks, Harriet. Please take cover if it comes to that, and we’ll get back in touch with you later. That was Harriet Meddle covering the damn bug problem in Wee Ghana. We’ll be right back.
BREAKING NEWS:
Studio Anchor Jim: Ladies and gentlemen, it’s 11:16 Eastern Time, which means it’s 3 p.m. in Wee Ghana. We have continuous live coverage of the damn bug problem in that newly formed nation. Let’s go back to Harriet Meddle for more on this breaking story. Harriet, what’s happening?
Harriet: It’s a pretty tense situation here, Jim, not going to lie. I’m here in Wee Ghana, about twenty feet from the Stupid-Ass Bug Tree, where the damn bugs are supposed to crawl out of the dirt any minute now. I was lucky enough to buy an old pair of previously owned Levi’s 501s from a street vendor, and Marcus had some heavy-duty rubber bands in his kit. I think they’re cutting off the circulation in my feet. I’d feel a lot better with some steel-toed boots and maybe a hooded parka with some mosquito netting, but it’s so frickin’ hot here right now I’d probably pass out. Also, Marcus and I sampled a bit of the grassweed; however, it doesn’t seem to have had any effect on us.
The entire Wee Ghana military is here, consisting of two teenage boys and their uncle. They might look a little tame in their Buffalo Bills World Champions football jerseys, but they do have a single-barrel shotgun, which they were fighting over a few minutes ago, and one of those Super Soaker squirt guns. The uncle is carrying a rope, which he fashioned into a lasso for some reason.
There is no sign of Premier Barbara, and I’ve heard unconfirmed reports she has fled the country with her head of security, a married man named Jonas, and a shit-ton of chicken wire.
Dr. Farko and a couple of other citizens erected a perimeter around the Stupid-Ass Bug Tree out of some of that same Wee Ghanaian chicken wire, and I must say, that is some pretty nice chicken wire. There are still hundreds of people milling around waiting for the big moment, seemingly unaware of the gravity of the situation. Scores more are passed out on the ground, apparently from imbibing a bit too much.
Jim, this reporter is feeling it though. There’s a sense of trepidation in the air I can’t describe. Waiting for these bugs to emerge is what it must be like for a bungee jumper when her bungee cord snaps in mid-air.
Studio Anchor Jim: Please be careful, Harriet. I would feel awful if anything happened to you out there. Is there any way for you and Marcus to get any nearer to that tree? Can you describe the tree and the grounds around it?
Harriet: Yes, we’re trying to make our way closer to the perimeter fence, but there seems to be a lot of young people here intent on getting selfies with the stupid-ass bugs when they finally do appear.
As for the tree, it’s just a regular tree, Jim. It’s got a trunk, and branches, and leaves. It’s a frickin’ tree, Jim. Okay, Marcus just told me it’s a papaya tree. Apparently, Marcus has a degree in botany. Who knew?
We’re making our way closer now, and I can see the ground. There’s a lot of dirt under the tree. African dirt. Is that what you wanted, Jim?
Studio Anchor Jim: I just meant…
Harriet: Hold on! There’s some movement in the dirt, Jim. A hush has fallen over this crowd—a quiet expectation, a solemn moment to reflect on one’s life should it be over in a matter of minutes. Marcus, can you get a closeup of the dirt? Do you see where it’s shaking a little?
I’m going to try to get closer to Dr. Farko, and hopefully he can tell us if these are the 96-year-old bugs or just an earthworm on steroids.
Dr. Farko?
Dr. Farko?!
He doesn’t seem to hear me. Is he avoiding me because I didn’t take his key? Well, we can see now who the professional one is in this situation.
Dr. Farko?
Dr. Farko: Ah, my pretty petunia, Harriet. My God, what are you wearing?
Harriet: Dr. Farko, is this what you’ve been expecting? Is this the emergence of the bugs? The ground is moving there.
Dr. Farko: Yes, yes, this is it, my little empanada. Oh, how rude of me. Reporter Harriet, this is my daughter Marika. Marika, this is Harriet. She will hopefully be dining with us tonight at the premier’s residence.
Harriet: Hi, Marika.
Marika: Hi.
Harriet: Shouldn’t Marika be sheltered someplace safe, Dr. Farko?
Dr. Farko: It’s okay. She can run extremely fast. She has won many awards in track and field. Haven’t you, Marika?
Marika: Mm-hmm.
Harriet: Dr. Farko! I can see legs. Or are those antennae? Dr. Farko, look!
[Harriet points to a hole forming in the dirt]
Dr. Farko: I see the hole, jellyroll. You’re getting truly excited, aren’t you, my roasted tenderloin? Yes, that’s a damn bug, alright. And a rather magnificent specimen, at that. Marika, look. Do you see the green part of its head and the antennae Harriet so astutely identified?
Marika: Yeah.
Harriet: Marcus, are you getting this? Dr. Farko, how many more of these can we expect to see sprouting from the ground like this? Hundreds? Thousands?
Dr. Farko: Well, about that. Marika is the maths wiz in the family, and we have been discussing my calculations for a couple of days now. Actually, my honey drizzle, Marika has been correcting my calculations. Haven’t you, dear?
[Marika side-glares at her father]
Harriet: So what does that all mean? Are we doomed? How many damn bugs are coming out?!
Dr. Farko: Um… one.
Harriet: One? All this for one damn bug?
Dr. Farko: You see, my fresh frittata, all the damn bugs are hermaphroditic and sterile. The little buggers bury themselves in the ground in pairs and try their little hearts out to procreate. But alas, no baby bugs. In 1832, there were sixteen bugs left, and in 1928, there were eight. So, I quite expected this year there would be four damn bugs coming out into the Wee Ghana sunshine.
Harriet: I don’t understand, Dr. Farko. Why is there only half the amount coming out than went in?
Dr. Farko: Oh, you naive little noodle. The bugs will get so frustrated from all the… uh, trying, with no baby bug as a result, that one bug will eat its mate. More out of spite, really—they don’t get too hungry down there. Nasty trait, if you ask me. Oh, look! There it is; it’s almost out.
Harriet: Dr. Farko, it doesn’t make sense. If there were eight in 1928, wouldn’t there be four coming out this year, not one?
Dr. Farko: Marika?
Marika: My father failed to take into account the arrival of the purple papaya snipe, a migratory bird from Portugal, three months ago. This bird nests in papaya trees and eats those damn bugs; it eats one bug a month, digs down with their long beak, and gets them. [Marika makes a snapping motion with her hand] But what do I know? I’m just a high school student, not an ornithologist.
Harriet: So, that leaves one bug left.
Dr. Farko: See? I told you, my Lady YumYum, Marika is one smart cookie. Ooh! There it is! The last damn bug is out. Quick, Terrence, get it.
[Dr. Farko’s assistant, Terrence, captures the disgusting creature in a Jerry’s Falafel take-out container]
Harriet: What are you going to do with it, Doctor?
Dr. Farko: It’s going to be the prize attraction in my new Ewezema Natural History Museum—entrance fee is three Wee Ghana cedi. [approximately 50 cents] Cash only.
Marika: It’s my grandmother’s chicken coop.
Dr. Farko: Yes, but it has especially nice chicken wire. The best, Marika, the best.
[Camera pans back to Harriet]
Harriet: Well, there you have it, Jim. Wee Ghana has narrowly escaped a natural disaster that could have meant hundreds of dollars in lost crop revenue, a citywide curfew if these things got out of hand, and an influx of purple papaya snipes, which would have devastated the papaya trees. Well, the one papaya tree they have here.
So I guess it’s the end of the line for the damn feculent stupid-ass bug.
[Camera starts to pan erratically]
Studio Anchor Jim: Is everything all right, Harriet?
Harriet: Marcus looks a bit woozy, and I think I just saw Elon Musk and LBJ riding a rhinoceros, so I think I’ll head on over to Dr. Farko’s place for a little nap.
This is Harriet Meddle, CPN News, in… in…
Marcus: Wee Ghana.
Harriet: Wee Ghana.
Studio Anchor Jim: Thank you for that report, Harriet. Get some rest.
After these words, we have more breaking news. We will be joined by TikTok influencer and internet gastroenterologist Melissa Rose. She says we’ve all been pooping wrong—we should be doing it standing up.
Stay tuned; we will be right back.
