Today I saw something I never thought to see ever in my whole life. Why Cheasty, you say. That sounds awfully dramatic -- what on earth could it be? Did you watch a meteor crash into your front yard? No. Did you see a dinosaur? No. Did you see Brad Pitt in his underwear... in your bed?! Sadly, no. But speaking of "in bed," that's sort of on the right track, because what I saw was A THREESOME IN THE FRONT YARD. Sadly (or not?), it was not a threesome of people, but of stinkbugs. You ever seen a stinkbug? Or stinkbugs mating? This is what it normally looks like.
Now add one. That's right, ladies and gentlemen. Menáge á stinkbug. Sadly, despite what all those pornos I spend all day reading say (ahem, cough cough), it didn't look all that fun. All three stinkbugs were stuck together at the business end, but instead of cooing and moaning and having a good time, it looked more like the Three Stooges, each one pulling in a different direction, trying to get unstuck. First they'd skitter off a little bit one way, then one would pull a little harder, and off they'd go in another direction, until the third one finally stepped up and hauled off towards a third corner. Skitter skatter here, skitter skatter over there. It all looked sort of unpleasant and painful.
It reminded me of a time about 12 years ago when my family had these two puppies from the same litter, Theodore and Sophie. They were so wee and cute and fluffy that we didn't realize until it was too late that they'd, you know, come of age. Then one summer evening my father came home to find our two sweet wee cute and fluffy puppies enthusiastically engaged in the act of love. Did I mention they're from the same litter? My dad was naturally a leeeetle appalled, so he ran out on the porch and grabbed the two and tried pulling them apart, shouting, "No no no no no no no no!" the whole time. But dogs, it turns out, due to some weird little evolutionary miracle, have this thing where the gentleman's, um, equipment, swells up a little so that it can't really come out of the girl's, um, you know. Hoo-ha. At least until the rootin' and tootin' is done. So Dad's pulling Theo and Sophie apart by the scruffs of their necks, and the two puppies are squealing and shrieking. Finally he puts them down to go get the hose. Sophie took off running as soon as her feet hit the ground, but Theo was still stuck to her, only sort of sideways, so he's hopping and skattering after her, yelping and shrieking the whole way. Then Dad turned the garden hose on them full blast, thinking that this would dampen their, er, ardor. Well, it didn't.
Nine weeks later, Sophie gave birth to a lovely litter of puppies with no visible signs of inbreeding.
Good luck, little stinkbugs.