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They’re in there. I know they’re in there. And they’re mocking me. From the other side of that wooded boundary line, they mock me. Slithering through the woods, they mock me. They sent out one of their young as a reminder that they’re still there.

That young sacrifice, initially a one-piece, 4-inch long youngster, is now two-piece, 2-inch long youngster. His family must surely miss him, and they are most probably plotting against me even now.

They too will die if they cross the comfortable confines of their wooded homes. They have been warned. War has been declared. They all must die.