I found a beetle in my living room last night.
I was about to kill him, but he saw me and said “FUKK!” and started playing dead.
That shyt made me go down a mental rabbithole about how stressed his little ass must have been. Away from his little beetle community, in a strange place, and a looming giant comes at you and you so petrified that the only thing you can do is pretend to be dead and hope for the best.
So I went to the kitchen, got a cup and a piece of mail and I scooped him up, took him outside, and set him free.
Go be great little beetle. Life’s a bytch but sometimes we all deserve a second chance.