The ancient pact between man and beast has been rent asunder

You would render Rembrandt a paint-by-numbers drudge.


Bug you say? Insect?

Nay, though hard of shell, though antennae adorned, the centipede is no insect. It strides into the world, it’s namesake far surpassing mere six legs, from the noble class Chilopoda. Shame on your all for sullying that name. Curses of a hundred count would fail to avenge the damage so casually tossed its way.

Slay the creature, but do not smear the name as one would smear its guts!

I hear you, brother.

I just got called by a terror-stricken Mrs. J.


Sure enough, an enormous creature was crawling across the basement floor, clad in furry black and brown, waving its head knowingly as we gazed in horror.

I cunningly captured it and relegated it to the great outdoors.