¡Zapper!

"Does it hurt when bugs die?"

Chant looked down at his five year-old son Marnicus. The kid was stupid. Dirt-stupid and ugly. Stupid-ugly: like dirt. Only uglier. Kid's face look like a seven-layer Mexican dip. With extra olives. Father and son were sitting out on the porch, watching the junebugs in July, and every third movement an insect would fly into the bug zapper hanging from the rafter, a soft ~BZZZZT~ chiming its demise. The bug zapper had no motive: it only dangled to volt.

But now the little fucker was getting existential.

"Does it, Daddy? Does it hurt when bugs die?"

Chant stub out the reefer and shift in the porch swing. "No way! Not even a little bit! That device is the most humane way to destroy bugs that's ever been invented."

Marny's blank face told Chant he had yet to convict.

"And what do you care about bugs anyway? They're pesky. Nuisance creatures with no license to be alive."

Marnicus just looked at Pa, wanting assurance, waiting for the inevitable nuisance of the truth.

"But either way the zapper don't hurt them at all."

Marny looked into Chant's eyes the way kids do, when they're not afraid to look all the way inside. And nothing makes adults more nauseous. Neither of them moved so the director used a still frame.

"Alright, you dumb shit, take a look at this." Chant stood up and reached for the Bug-B-Get-Going, illuminated in the blue light. He slipped his finger beneath the safety hatch and removed the protective grating. The throbbing bulb glowed naked in the night, a patient laser humming in a major key. "The bugs fly inside and they go to touch the light-"

Chant touched the blue to demonstrate, instantly electrocuting himself. His body sizzled as current paralyzed his nerve center, 500 amps dancing through the skin and bone that we call person. His last thought- extended into infinity- was of blueberry pie, but he would never know why. His fingernails blackened as they charred and eventually popped from his fingertips. His hair was fried like pasta and his heart exploded in his chest like an uber-jubilant water balloon. His lifeless husk collapsed on the porch.

It was okay though- Marnicus had Playstation.