"Well, too late, maybe next time."

It was not this little guys day. Dreadful morning hangover from no drinking the night before, what can be worse?

Roling out of his den just to lend in a pool of water on his bare patch of ground of his home. It had been raining all night. No, not raining, pouring down like the sky had opened up just to make his day more miserable. He was sure that it was just over his hole in the ground and sun on the other side of the hill for all others to enjoy.

Merely making it above the water so not drowning, he half asleep struggled to make his way out of his hole to the surface hoping for a sun that would make him warm and dray, but no, still raining. With his last strength, he made it to the top of a small stone. Gasping for air and trying to catch his breath. What a start of a day.

But little did he know. Out of the darkness from behind, something came cruising down on him, forcing all air out, breaking his valuable shell he could live without and all went dark in just a fracture of a second.

The entomologist lifted his pincers and looked at him. "What a poor little fellow. I have been looking for you for so long and now you are all broken and unusable to me. What a shame, what a waste of time on your miserable little life." He observed him for a moment or two, before throwing him away. Stepping on him as he stood up. It was like the final insult of this last morning in this little fellows life.

"Well, too late, maybe next time." The entomologist looked to the sky, the rain hitting him hard in the face. "And hopefully it won't be raining then."

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