More Burning

First part of the Burning Articles is at here.

Due to my pathological fixation on fire, here I present more examples of insects being punished for being born. I mean, hatched. Whatever. Anyway, they deserved a fiery torment because I felt like it. Wanna argue about the fairness of such reasoning? Talk to the flamethrower!

Below: Tiny little ‘sugar ants’. Despite their name, these ants are attracted to smelly cat food much more than sugar. Just like most ants, dry or wet cat food brings them gathering for a happy feast. And up on the 13th floor where groundwater and rain seldom are to be found, ants also crave water sources. But more on ant behaviour next time.


For now, it will suffice you to know that ANTS DIE SATISFYINGLY FROM FIRE. Compare the straight-bodied, orderly alignment of the ants above; with the contorted-bodied, lie-where-they-fall scattering of below:


Below: “Agh! I am big unt strong! Fear mein muscles unt Austrian accent!”


Come big or come small, this pyromaniac gonna TORCH you all! Even heavy-hitters with ooh-so-scary jaws quickly surrender in the ‘UKK! DEAD!’ position when confronted with the sheer POWER and BEAUTY of my fire.


Note the slightly shrivelled wings – the flameburst was so short that it didn’t burn the wings completely off, yet the intense heat was more than enough to fully disable the chitin-armoured warrior. (The Finns beat back WWII Russian tanks with Molotov cocktails, you know. Now imagine a Molotov 1,000 times your size.)

Below: A short little before and after. Grain beetle before has legs and antennae.


Grain beetle after…kinda doesn’t. Good luck trying to plague humanity in the afterlife, bub.


Below: A fly on the ceiling. Hey, got a quiz for you. Ahem, what do you call a fly without wings?


A) A fall.   B) A walk.   C) An ‘Oh blimey, now I’m in for it’


Notice how this is the opposite of the tough ant. The wide flame singed off the wings entirely, while leaving the fly unscathed enough to actually stand around in a confused manner. “Dude, where’s your wings?” “I don’t know dude. Where’s my wings?” “Dude…”

I finished it off by dousing the immediate area with ethanol, then lightning it for a soft, liquid-like blue and yellow flame. Much less explosive than lighting the spray directly.


In another fly-related incident, a large fly with three parallel stripes on its back was buzzing at the sliding glass door at the balcony in 8-13-2. So I was like, HOW DAREST THOU BUZZETH WITHOUT PAYING HOMAGE TO THY SCOTT! And verily, I punished it. Vengeance is the Scott’s.

The flameburst knocked said offending wu-ying to the ground. One hit KO, as usual! But a second later, it excreted a white/gray blob from its rear. I thought it must have been a trauma-induced empty your bowels kinda thing, but no! The blob squirmed slightly, unfurled and fell apart into a bunch of writhing maggots! Eww, groh-oh-ost!

I recalled that the three parallel stripes identify the fly as Family Sarcophagidae. That means ‘corpse eating’, which refers to the fact that the larvae of such flies prefer to eat rotting flesh. Perhaps viviparity (live birth) gives them a head start in said eating.

They withered into dry, black wisps as fast as burning tissue paper. And I thought they might be slimy or juicy and simply roast. But nope, consumed by fire almost exactly like little squirming strips of newspaper.

P43AR MY F1R3!

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