FB | Ch. 2 - The Insectification

Everyone remembers where they were when the Insectification happened.

Tim, my moth friend said it happened during his wedding. Right in the middle of his vows. Dave, some guy I met once, claimed the Insectification saved his life. Said he’d just crushed his leg in a forklift accident and was facing amputation. He used to joke that instead of losing a leg, he got eight. 

Me? I was on the toilet.

There I was, mid-business, when a voice boomed in my head—deep, resonant, and strangely reminiscent of an airplane pilot greeting passengers through the intercom.

"Greetings, humans. We are from planet Blrrrrgh."

Let’s pause a moment. Everyone on Earth heard that message in their own language. Which means an alien species advanced enough to beam a telepathic signal worldwide decided to go by the name “Blrrrrgh.” That alone shows just what kind of psychos they are. 

Anyway, the rest of the message went like this:

"Greetings, humans. We are from planet Blrrrrgh. We accidentally killed the insect population of our planet and need to refill it. You’ve been chosen as substitutes. You will be teleported to our planet and be transformed into bugs. Have fun!"

That was it. No explanation. No instructions. Just an intergalactic version of: "Oops, you’re bugs now. Enjoy!"

Stupid Giants. Try getting turned into something so tiny that even a gust of wind can kill you. Then tell me it’s fun.

The moment the voice cut out, we vanished. Poof. Gone.

Next thing I knew, I was floating in a void. No sky. No floor. No up or down. Just me and a growing suspicion that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a prank.

Then a glowing window popped up in front of me.

Welcome to Planet Blrrrrgh.

You're about to be transformed.

Choose your species.

The list was longer than a buffet menu at an all-you-can-eat diner. Ants. Spiders. Butterflies. Beetles. Cicadas. Silverfish. Mites. If it crawled, squirmed, or made people say "Ew," it was on there.

And at the very bottom, for the thrill-seekers: Randomization.

Disbelief? Check. Panic? Double check. I screamed, I flailed, and at one point, I’m pretty sure I called out to my mom to come and save me.

But once I realized this wasn’t a dream, I got serious. If I had to spend the rest of my life as a bug, I wasn’t leaving it to chance.

I was a Terminator. I’d spent years tracking down insects in kitchens and crawlspaces. I knew bugs. Not in a nerdy entomologist way—but in the practical, "I know where you hide your eggs and how to kill you" way.

I thought it through. Really thought it through. Species selection is where it all went wrong for a lot of folks. Most people picked based on gut instinct or comic book preferences. You wouldn’t believe how many people became spiders because they liked Spider-Man.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "Hal, you used to kill bugs for a living. You probably picked something terrifying. A wasp. A scorpion. A mantis."

All those were apex predators, and apex predators eat... other bugs. That’s right. All bugs were former humans.

I wasn’t about to start my new life as a cannibal.

So the murder bugs were out. Most who chose them were either overconfident, unhinged, or had fatally misread the situation. The rest hit Randomization and prayed they wouldn’t end up as a gnat.

Me? I had criteria. Adaptability and a non-cannibal diet were top priorities. 

That’s when beetles caught my eye.

Yes, cockroaches are famously adaptable, and yes, they survive everything short of a nuclear winter. But cockroaches had been involved in my getting hit in the head with a bowling ball the day before. I was still bitter.

Also, roaches are universally despised. Have you ever heard someone say, "Look, honey, what a cute roach!"? No. They squeal and reach for the nearest shoe. I’d spent my career exterminating the things.

If our alien hosts were going to treat us like we treated bugs, I wanted to be at least semi-likable. That ruled out the roaches.

Ants were a strong option. Adaptable, numerous, and incredibly organized. But their power is in numbers. Alone, they’re basically crunchy raisins with legs. I wasn’t banking my survival on the goodwill of a million strangers.

Beetles though? That’s a wide net. They make up one-fourth of Earth’s species.They come in all sizes, colors, and shapes. Fireflies. Ladybugs. Bark beetles. Dung beetles, if you’re into that kind of thing. They burrow, they fly, they swim, and they shine in the dark.

And hey, they’re not exactly hated. Ladybugs are considered cute. Fireflies are basically the nightlight of the insect world.

Also, and this is a small confession: I really like The Beatles.

Unrelated. Probably.

I locked in my choice.

And just like that, I woke up on a new planet.

Ch. 1 - The Bowling Ball

INDEX

Ch. 3 - Clown Clothes