Some years ago, I lived in North Hollywood.
I remember it as if it were this morning...

Being a native californian, I've been familiar with these organisims, from childhood. But, can anything ever prepare us for the sudden terror which bolts thru us, when we spot yet another of these reprehensible spawn?

Even a photo of these creatures, produces involuntary reflex actions.. toe curling, the nashing of teeth, and severe ass-puckering, to name a few.

It was early morning. It was cold outside, and I was naked in my bed. The wife had arisen earlier, and the smell of fresh brewed coffee hung in the air as thick as campfire smoke.

Sitting up, I paused for a moment to ascess my condition. I reached for my boxer briefs, which I had discarted on the floor, the night before.

Stepping into one loop, and then the other, I tugged the garment up snug to my groin, as I have done a thousand times.
But this time was different...

My eyebrow raised sharply at the sensation of a foriegn object,
coming to rest against the underside of my scrotum. For an instant, It felt like a thumb-sized scratchy twigg, but an instant later, this 'twigg' began to twist and turn about in an urgent manner.

In a panic, I withdrew my boxer briefs several inches, but to my dismay, there was nothing in the briefs, nor did anything fall to the floor.. instead, I felt some thing, grappling the underside of my scrotum, just below the penis.

At this point, I was in absolute terror, still not knowing what I was dealing with.. My mind, murky with the evenings slumber, now was a boiling mass of panic, and desperation..

Madly, I began flayling away at my groin, like a mad dog, trying to bury a prise t-bone. I could feel the sensation of many tiny hooks, seated in the folds of my scrotum.. an object, suspended snuggly between them.

I began to scream.

My wife burst into the room, and found me doing what any real man would have done in a simular situation.

Running in a tight circle, and dancing the frantic 'Funky Chicken'.

I was locked in this frenzied dance, as if the survival of the human race depended on me appeasing the Colonel.

Suddenly, airborne before our eyes, a flesh colored object flew across the room, impacted the television screen, and fell to the floor.
I felt certain that it was a chunk of my flesh.. that I was being eaten alive, from my ball-park plumper, to my pale-white dumper.

Only when my wife hunched over my discarted flesh, in dismal disgust, did I begin to take notice that the sensation had ceased.

My frenzied pace began to weaken..
My wife began to laugh hysterically...

On the floor was a prise winning, heavyweight potatobug, which was trying to hump (burrow) its way, deeper into the carpet.

The wife asked if the frenzied dance was part of the cross-mating ritual between PB's and humans..

One look in those black beady eyes... and you know that the demonic union had to have transpired down the line, somewhere.

This is why they are all worthy of death.

Im just lucky I could shake the little bastard before he caught a glimpse of what he may have considered his legless dream-mate.

Not wanting him to pass on anything he may have seen.. i sent him on tour, with 3 solid flushes.

He's probably a naval officer by now.