Night of the Living Earthworms.

It was a cold, rainy night. Charcoal grey clouds obscured any trace of star and moon, and pelted my exceedingly crooked hot pink umbrella with plops of water from the heavens. All the earthworms in UBC had come up out of the ground in full force: fat, juicy ones; skinny, sleek ones; curly, wriggly ones.

They appeared on the pavement in the approximate frequency of one every 30 cm(squared) of ground, their glistening bodies visible as thin slits of reflected light in the glow of the street lamps. You had to keep your eyes on the pavement and watch where you placed your feet in the dark in case you squished one and got earthworm guts all over the bottom of your shoe. In Bean's mind, the earthworms were trying to take over the world as she squealed among the worm-ful puddles. I poked a skinny one on the ground at the traffic light. It was gliding along calmly, minding its own business, when a giant index finger (mine) poked it on its side. Immediately, it responded by making itself smaller, drawing in its body so that it was shorter in length but fatter in diameter. Bean looked on revolted as it writhed on the ground and curled on itself twice in what it must have thought was a display of ferocious protest, and i was promptly forbidden to pick it up upon my suggestion.

What if there was a massive attack of the earthworms? Imagine the earth covered inches deep with earthworms! A beige-brown, soft, wet, squirming mass of fat worms smothering everything on God's green earth. Help. I have a mental image of that now and it's not going away.