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“Aren’t you two a little old to be doing this scooby gang investigation thing?” The homeowner asked the pair. The three adults stood in front of an average suburban home on a quiet afternoon.
“No,” the woman smiled. She had to be in her 30s, yet she was dressed like she was in her early 20s. Her sweater and fuzzy pants combo looked like it might have been fashionable twenty years ago. But now, it made her look like she was trying too hard.
“Yes,” the man replied bluntly. His wool cap and fleece jacket were well worn and fairly dirty. It made him look street smart in the sense he literally appeared as though he wandered off an inner-city street. His affirmative reply earned him a pout from his female companion.
“In any case,” the woman shifted back to her smile, “we heard you have a Mothman in your attic?”
“Yeah,” the homeowner nodded. His uncertainty in the duo was clear as day, and he made no attempts to hide it. “It’s been giving me evil looks every time I try to go back up there. My record collection and my winter clothes are up there, and I don’t want it destroying them. And before you ask, mothballs don’t work.”
“Leave it to us,” the sweater woman puffed out her chest. “Your record collection is in safe hands.” She marched into the house without even waiting for the homeowner’s permission. Leaving them agape at her sheer audacity.
“She does that sometimes,” the cap-wearing man sighed. “Give her 30 seconds. She’ll be back.”
On cue, literally half a minute later, the woman returned with a question, “Which way to your attic?”
~--~
“I can’t believe you got lost in someone’s house again,” the cap-wearing man stated.
“Its layout is confusing,” the sweater woman defended herself.
“The stairs were right there in the front,” the man pointed out.
“Huff,” the woman pouted again but dropped the subject as they ascended into the attic. It was a simple one-room attic. The ceiling was curved to match the roof directly above, and insulation lining every wall. Stacks of boxes lined the dusty wooden floor, mostly records, trinkets, and seasonal items like snow shovels and beach chairs. However, in the far corner was a chewed open box of winter clothing. A partially eaten sweater dangled out over the cardboard.
“Well, at least we’ll save the records,” the cap man commented as he flicked the nearby light switch. Sadly, the small light above did not turn on. A quick glance revealed the wires had been chewed as well.
“That’s one ravenous moth,” the woman stated as she pulled out a flashlight. “Let’s see how big he is,” she ignited her light source. Alas, the attic appeared empty save for the two of them. It was dead quiet, save for the sound of the wind outside. “No Mothman?” The sweater woman whined.
“No Mothman, but,” the cap man pointed straight ahead. Hovering in the light was a single moth. It was a totally normal moth, albeit a huge one. Its wingspan easily surpassed 30 centimeters, making it a record-setting size. However, it was still just a regular moth.
“Wow, that’s big, but not quite a Mothman. Does that guy need glasses or something?” The woman wondered.
“Begone from my lair, or face my wrath,” a booming voice echoed through the room. The duo looked around for the source but could find no mouth speaking the words. “Over here, you nitwits.”
“The moth?” The sweater woman pointed the flashlight at the moth again.
“Not the moth,” the voice replied, “Me!” The Mothman emerged from underneath the light, starting the pair. Two bright-red eyes on the insect-like body stared dagger at the duo.
“That’s a cool trick, do it again,” the woman exclaimed.
“What a rip,” the cap man sighed and stepped forward.
“Be gone humans, I said go away!” The Mothman exclaimed.
“Yeah, no,” the man waved his hand through the creature, revealing it to be nothing more than an illusion. “Get the butterfly net.”
“Oh, boy!” The woman pulled out a net and an insect cage.
“No, stay away,” the Mothman continued to scream. At the same time, the moth itself tried to flutter away, only to be caught in the net immediately.
~--~
“Found your Mothman,” the woman showed the homeowner the captured insect. The moth relentlessly flew around the cage, looking for an escape but found none.
“That’s not what I saw,” the homeowner replied.
“Must have been a trick of the light,” the cap man explained. “That’s probably the biggest moth anyone has ever seen, so it’s understandable.”
“But it spoke to me and yelled at me,” the homeowner exclaimed.
“It’s all in your head,” the woman assured as she left and her partner with the insect in tow.
“So what do we do with the magic moth?” The cap man asked as they walked onto the street.
“I dunno, release him in the wood or something?” The woman shrugged. “It wouldn’t feel right to keep him.”
“The woods? That is not fit for my domain. I demand more wool!” The moth exclaimed.
“Keep that up, and we’ll have you framed,” the cap man threatened.
“I’ll be good,” the moth squeaked.
~~~~
I got no pseudo-philosphy this time, I just had a silly idea and I wrote it. Also, I don't know for certain if 30 centimeters would be a world record size for moths. Everything I found online about the world's largest moths was that they were just under 30 centimeters in size, but I couldn't find anything talking about a specific largest moth (but that's what 5 minutes of research gets you).
Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy
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