This thread reminded me of something I wrote a decade ago. I thought I’d share it.
**DEAD HORSE, NM/b]
© 1994 by Johnny L.A.
Munch. Munch.
“Seen Mom?”
“Are you kidding? It’s so dark in here I can’t see a bloody thing!”
“Ha. Ha.”
“What?”
“You said ‘bloody’.”
“Oh.”
Munch. Munch.
“Where are we, anyway?”
“Dead Horse.”
“No shit. Really, where are we?”
“New Mexico.”
“Could you be more specific?”
“Dead Horse.”
“God. If I had limbs I’d pummel you.”
“Look. We’re in a dead horse in Dead Horse. Dead Horse, New Mexico. Got it?”
“Okay, okay.”
“Horse’s name was Ernest.”
“Oh, shut up and eat.”
Munch. Munch.
Munch. Munch.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m pupating, you larval lunkhead.”
“Pupating! You’re NOT going to metamorphose without me! Hey…! Hey, I’m talking to you…! HEY!”
And so the maggots ceased fighting in dead Ernest, and held a truce until they became flies. But that’s another story.