VS.
Today, while walking back to my car from work, I spotted an earthworm wriggling on the hot concrete. Instinctually I picked it up and placed it in the nearest patch of shady grass. Once having done this I realized that I had just thrown it into a raging battle between another earthworm and a gang of angry ants. Not wanting my helpful efforts to be in vain I scooped the earthworm back up along with his kin in an attempt to rescue them from the onslaught. Now I had two helpless worms covered in ants writhing in pain in my hands and I had no idea what to do. Although the ants seemed vicious in their attack it seemed very probable that they may only be defending their territory or families from a perceived invasion. With no time nor perception to determine the authenticity of their wrath I set about ending the hostilities by the easiest means possible. The ants held tight to the earthworms with their bite and while trying to pluck them from the worms some ants inevitably were squished. Finally after minutes of rushed but gentle plucking several ant carcasses lay at my feet, but the tiny worms were no longer flailing in my hand. It was now time to return them to their homeland, but where should I place them? Both the concrete and the bed of ants had already been ruled out as possibilities and there are very few patches of inviting soil in the medical center. Everywhere I looked I spotted at least one or two wandering ants. Frying pans and fires now evaded, where would they be safest? After taking a few minutes to survey the area I tossed them into a seemingly shady and ant-less patch of grass and returned to my previous mission of acquiring quarters for the soda machine.
The End.
The End.