Caterpillars From Hell

When I was a kid, we had two kinds of caterpillars:

1. really cute ones, some of which were fuzzy, that crawled on the ground or trees and you picked up and played with; you just knew they turned into the coolest butterflies, and
2. not so cute or pretty ones that apparently had mated with spiders and left evil webs everywhere. These clearly turned into vampire moths.

Now we have many more types:

3. fuzzy ones that burn you;
4. fuzzier ones that sting like a wasp and cause allergic reactions that can hospitalize you;
5. even fuzzier ones that will gouge your eyes out;
6. caterpillars so fuzzy and evil they cause zombies to run away screaming, ignoring brains as they flee.

Where did these all come from? Terrorists? The same people who brought you chem trails? Failed Monsanto GMOs? Alien invasion? Whatever the origins, where the heck are the Avengers?

Meanwhile, do not touch anything that even vaguely resembles a caterpillar. Annihilate it with as much force as you can muster. If you happen to take out a tree, a car, a home, or a neighborhood, well, superheroes have collateral damage, too. At least you helped save the planet... even if you destroyed it in the process.

I Love Short Shorts

I wrote these for a contest whose (themed) entries had to be exactly 100 words. I wrote them late at night along with two other entries. The next morning I woke up and realized these two did not fit the themes, so I withdrew them from the contest.

But, I like them, so here they are, gifts for you on a central Texas, storm on the way, February evening.

Which (if either) do you like better, and why?

---

Pick the first door, you're filthy rich. Pick the second, the woman of your dreams. Which do you want?"

"And door number three?"

Monty's eyebrows went up. "I don't know! Been so long since anyone..." He searched, found a paper, and read.

"Could be anything at all. Boredom. Adventure. Prince. Pauper. Marilyn Monroe! An ugly shrew. President! Prisoner! Same thing the rest of your life. Something new every day. Family. Cannibals. Anything! No guarantees."

Gorgeous women and piles of money danced through Corwyn's head. It was no contest. His face shining with joy, Corwyn practically ran through door number three.

---

The Pauper family was dirt poor. The twelve of them barely had two complete sets of clothes. Since Papa held a (pathetic) job, he wore one set of clothes. The others wore the second set as needed.

A parish church, hearing of the Pauper's predicament, collected clothing. Mountains of clothes soon arrived at the Paupers' property.

Crying tears of joy, the Paupers tried on outfit after outfit, profusely thanking their neighbors for what they'd provided.

The Paupers were found dead the next morning, naked and covered in ugly, red welts. The perplexed coroner demanded, "Who ever heard of polyester poisoning?"