Recently, while working out in the pool (aqua jogging for the win), I was accompanied by a cricket that made themself at home and was dedicated in breaking out into their cricket song for all to hear.
Perhaps this was a mating call. Reaching out to other crickets to come hang out by the pool for a bit of cricket action. I don’t know if there is a cricket mating season or if crickets get their procreation on at any time it is convenient, but a mating call of sorts made sense in this situation. Especially since a number of crickets had alighted in the area. Might this be the beginnings of a cricket orgy?
Alas, I fear the answer is “no.” For the pool was littered with crickets who had drown in their pursuit of an advertised orgy or some other reason. Could it be that my cricket friend was mourning, and this was a song of lament? Their cricket mate, perhaps Carl, maybe Carla pushed into the pool by an unexpected breeze or simply over-shooting their destination and landing in a wet purgatory they could not escape. The poor cricket and their song of sorrow and loss.
Except, what if this cricket was luring their brethren to a watery death with a siren song? A song of hope designed to cull the masses in a play for superiority and increased procreation opportunities. Could it be that this was an evil cricket thinking only of themselves and the result was a mass drowning? I don’t think I will ever know because I do not speak cricket.
Jamoosh Interrupted 