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Sunday, December 22, 2024

I Might Be a Worm and I Might Be Tantalizing, However Belief Me, Trout, You Don’t Need to Eat Me



I’m tasty. I get it. I scent like rotten leaves. My wriggling physique sways in opposition to the sun-kissed waters, contorting in methods sea creatures may solely dream of. I’m a gooey, gummy invertebrate. You’re an oil-faced trout who won’t ever expertise the pure thrill of a sidewalk after rainfall. After all, you need to swallow me complete proper now, however I need to warn you: In the event you eat me, you’ll die.

For the previous three days, I’ve been locked in a six-pack cooler, smashed in between 1,000 different worms. I’ve been to hell. Your abdomen doesn’t scare me. I’m doing this to your personal sake. There are rubber-pantsed beasts out to get you. No, not down right here. Up there. Lurking above.

Haven’t you seen your family and friends disappearing? It by no means as soon as crossed your thoughts to file a lacking fish report? Oh, that’s proper, you in all probability thought they discovered a stream someplace that led to an epic coral reef ranger within the Maldives. I don’t imply to burst your bubble, however this dwelling you realize and love was created by these nautical-wannabe monsters. They dug a gap, stuffed it with water, and threw you in that gap of water all so they might bloodbath you nearer to dwelling.

As we communicate, your family members are being butchered, grilled, fried, roasted, and sautéed. A few of them are even served on silver platters with their scales and eyes intact. Yep, these sadistic carnivores need to devour you whereas nonetheless sustaining eye contact.

Why else would a worm be levitating underwater? I come from the realm of filth. We should always’ve by no means crossed paths, however these bucket-hat-wearing savages need you to guzzle me up. One little nibble and also you’ll be the one flailing round in a web of artificial fibers, suffocating a gradual and painful demise within the unforgiving contemporary air.

These warm-blooded, plaid-loving mammals need you to suppose they’re such developed creatures, however actually, they’re psychopaths. They’ve zero empathy. They don’t take into consideration the ache one feels when impaled by a metallic hook. (Because the one presently being skewered right here, I can testify, it sucks.) They don’t take into consideration something. Like in any respect.

This literal bait-and-switch recreation they’re enjoying is their model of meditation. To them, enjoyable means planning a first-degree homicide. They get up on the daybreak, collect their weapons, and drift off on their gigantic grim reaper boats to do what? Sit in silence as they wait and wait and anticipate the right premeditated second to eviscerate you.

After they do snatch you up, they’ll soar for pleasure. The cameras will flash as they enjoy your magnificence and dimension. Your image will probably be despatched to all their associates. Heck, you would be on the quilt of {a magazine}. However will you ever see it? No. Since you’ll be useless and thrown on high of a bunch of different useless fish.

You might suppose there’s nothing worse than being digested however suppose once more. A few of these pocket-obsessed, vest-worshiping demons would somewhat mildew you into their very own trophies. They’ll carry your corpse dwelling, paint your lifeless scales, disembowel your innards, stuff your flesh with sawdust, and mount you on their partitions so each day they are often reminded of your slaughter.

These are SERIAL KILLERS. What do you not perceive? Am I that candy and scrumptious that you’d die for me? Flattered, positive, however hate to interrupt it to you: I’m not that nice. I’m, at finest, a subpar worm. Different worms solely eat natural fruits and veggies. My weight loss program consists of paper and manure. Do you actually need to eat one thing that feasts on shit for a dwelling? Slightly than us each getting murdered in the present day, could I recommend that plump, portly, barb-less leech over there?

By the width of your mouth enclosing my pharynx, I’ll take that as a no. I hope you’re deboned, pan-seared, and marinated in a garlic lemon butter herb sauce, you, slime-covered chordate.

See you on the opposite aspect.

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