Dogged By Tragedy

Saint Roley alights in the Maldonados' back garden.

Piffy and Pi-face are sharing a cricket.

Hello, says Piffy. Back from the volcano?

Alone, says Saint Roley.

You don't look too happy, say Pi-face.

I'm dogged by tragedy, says Saint Roley. I have lost Princess Pacchu. She loved me.

Do you eat crickets? asks Piffy. Have a bite of this one.

I think not, says Saint Roley. I'll just sit here in the sunshine.

We too are touched by tragedy, says Pi-face. Remember our giant baby? Now known as Gastro?

Of course, says Saint Roley. He came with us. Why, has something happened?

We've just learned he has a back flap, says Piffy.

Perhaps it's a dorsal pouch, says Saint Roley.

There's a big difference between a flap and a pouch, says Piffy. And only females have pouches.

He seemed happy, says Saint Roley.

Did he? says Piffy. Well, that's something. Last chance for a bite of this cricket?

No thanks, sighs Saint Roley. Are the others back yet?

Inside, says Pi-face.

Saint Roley flies in through the window.

Good, you're back, says Gaius. Take a look at these waxworms.

Saint Roley looks at the waxworms, chomping through plastic.

But does not grasp the significance.

Humboldt is fiddling with Gaius's phone.

Can't work it, says Humboldt.

Give it here, says Gaius. You watch the waxworms.

Gaius taps for a while.

Aha. Waxworm larvae. Parasitic. Ability to biodegrade polyethylene at uniquely high speeds.

No! cries Humboldt.

Too late. Saint Roley has tried one.

I'm sorry, says Saint Roley. Outside I was offered a cricket, and refused. But the power of suggestion has made me uncontrollably hungry.

Understandable, says Humboldt. It may not be a problem. The frogs eat them.

Indeed, says Gaius. And it says here they are bred commercially for fishing bait.

So fish eat them, says Saint Roley. They must be all right.

More waxworm larvae drop through their holes in the plastic.

One is a leader. There is always a leader.

The leader rears up, white and creamy, with black tipped feet.

Are we anywhere within range of a bee hive? asks the leader. We're supposed to eat beeswax, not this tasteless plastic stuff.

Yes, says Gaius. That is correct. You eat beeswax. But you must have been gathered and placed in a plastic bag by someone. And that sealed your fate.

Which is? asks the leader.

To be eaten by Riobamban marsupial tree frogs, says Gaius. But you have a temporary reprieve. They have jumped out of the window.

Didn't we just come in through the window? asks the leader. A narrow escape, then.

Humboldt doesn't like the unresolved situation. He tips the rest of the waxworms out of the window, to meet their end as nature intended.