A tounge-lashing

Happy and spent, I walked back to my car from the gym. As soon as I put my hand on the handle, a cricket landed on my window.

"Excuse me!" the cricket bellowed. "We need to talk to you!"

"We?" I raised an eyebrow. A loud buzzing noise rang in my ears, and I watched in horror as a dozen crickets landed on my car.

"This is so gross," I muttered, blanching.

"We are not gross," the first cricket gasped. "You are the one that is gross!"

I looked down at my gym clothes and rolled my eyes. "Well, I know I'm sweaty and may smell a little, but I wouldn't say I'm gross."

"We have a problem with you!" a second cricket chimed in, rubbing his back feet together rapidly.

"Yea!" all the crickets chorused.

"What's your problem?" I asked.

"You squish crickets," the first cricket stated dramatically, narrowing his beady eyes at me.

"No I don't!"I protested. All the crickets nodded vigorously.

"Do too," the second cricket said accusingly.

"When?" I snapped.

"When it's about to rain and we all want to go to the gym and the mean gym people won't let us inside so we wait patiently in the parking lot thinking they'll let us in but they never let us in because they're mean," the second cricket explained.

"I only squish you because I can't even walk to the door!" I pointed out. "It's like a carpet of crickets! I can't take a step without stepping one of you."

"Did you ever think of asking us to move?" the first cricket asked primly. The other crickets nodded.

"Perhaps if you had better manners you would think to ask us to move," the second cricket scolded me.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "So what am I supposed to do if you don't move?"

"Go another way," the first cricket suggested.

"There's only one way to the door," I pointed out. "I'm not going to walk all over the parking lot just because you crickets won't move."

"She's got a point," the second cricket whispered to the first cricket. He glared at the second cricket then shook his antennae at me.

"Do you promise to at least ask us before squishing our comrades?" the first cricket squeaked.

"I promise," I sighed wearily. "Can I go now? Do you still have a problem with me?"

"Hey, don't put this all on us," the second cricket said defensively. "You're the one that started talking to us, remember? You initiated these conversations."

Defensive little twits, aren't they? I thought. Instead, I simply smiled and thanked the crickets. They happily flew away, and I climbed in my car in relief.

Just for spite, I ran over a cockroach. I don't talk to them.