In the light of the moon a little egg lay on a leaf. Or to be more precise quite a lot of eggs, and not all of them were little. Some of them were flicking huge. Like bleeding footballs of something.
One Sunday morning, the warm sun came up and POP out of the egg came a tiny and very hairy caterpillar. He started to look for something to annoy.
Then, all around Wivenhoe there were more POPs and before we knew what was going on, the town found itself the cruel victim of an infestation.
On Monday the hairy caterpillars irritated the eyes of 12 children, but they still weren’t satisfied.
On Tuesday, they gave all the mum’s that jog along the Wivenhoe trail a nasty looking rash – the sort that’s too embarrassing to take to the doctor – but they still weren’t satisfied.
On Wednesday, they gave that flasher bloke a very uncomfortable itching sensation on the end of his Piers Morgan, but they still weren’t satisfied.
On Thursday, they ate through one piece of chocolate cake, one ice cream cone, one pickle, one slice of Swiss cheese, one used condom, one lollipop, one piece of cherry pie, one wrap of ketamine and Alan Partridge in a pear tree.
That night they all had a big, caterpillar poo.
On Saturday, the police marksmen pretended they were American cops and shot the hell out of everything that moved. They shot all day and they shot all night. And they shot until they could shoot no more. And then they shot again just to be sure.
The next day was Sunday again and the police had totally shot their load.
The remaining caterpillars ate through one nice green leaf before buggering off to Rowhedge where they haven’t got enough funding for their police to have bullets in their guns.