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Inside an apartment – Night
A small but nice apartment near the city center. Hipsterville. A man in his late twenties starts to write in his diary.
Ian, a writer, investor, is sitting behind is desk. He is tall and handsome, with a beard.
Narrator (it has to be Morgan Freeman, if he isn’t available we’ll wait):
The bugs were still crawling at his feet. He could see them, feel them. Their lingering presence was reminded to him with weird itches on his body. When he turned to scratch the itch, the bugs weren’t there. Vanished. As if they weren’t there in the first place. He wasn’t sure if he was just imagining it or were the bugs just playing a cruel joke on him. Laughing in their dungeons. For some reason he thought they lived in dungeons. Then secretly at night came out to torment him with tender, almost unbearable touches. They must have a sadistic sense of humour. He wondered about their childhood? Were they all happy? Or did their parents beat them and shame them, until it manifested in developing a nightly hobby of going around people’s houses and touching them?
Morgan takes a break. Sighs and then continues:
We can only speculate. Or we could go down there, to the dungeons and look up their psychiatrist, ask for their records. If she doesn’t give them to us, break in at night (day?) and steal them. We would then have an insight into the minds of bugs (Or we could just watch Bug’s Life again). I doubt they would suddenly stop harassing us though. Nor would they in all likelihood accept any psychological advice from us or support. And what kind of psychopaths would voluntarily go to a psychiatrist anyway? Especially if they are bugs. Do they even have the cognitive understanding of their separate selves? We just don’t know. A lot of if’s and speculations. It would be a lot easier to just spray them with bug spray and be done with it. But that’s not how I operate. In order to beat the bugs I have to become one of them, infiltrate their ranks and get to know them.
By this time, Morgan has surely had enough but he begrudgingly carries on like a true professional:
(No, not like Avatar). I know it’s just like avatar. Fuck, I can already see Myself falling in love with the Chief’s daughter and making weird bug love with her. God damn James Cameron and Your magical stories! Have to write him an email. Or watch Avatar again. Damn You bugs!