QOD: Insult an insect.

Put your zillion eyes back in your head, you parasitic worm or I’ll step so hard on you that your larvae will hatch dizzy. I’d drop a rock on you, but I hear that’s your favorite hangout. Go on now, pick up those extraneous legs, you carapaceless wonder, before I break the rest off, and wriggle back to your airborne-virus mommy; I’m sure the rest of the protozoa will welcome you back to your old home-slimy-home in the lower intestine of that diseased tortoise.