D. B. quickly dismissed the casino carpet comments as being on point yet irrelevant; "You assholes are REALLY gonna get it..Here they come...."
With that D. B. snapped her fingers while saying "Fibonacci" and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
The shaking and loud rumbling worsened; the Back Door Men looked out the window and lost all hope.
They espied a swarm of huge insects, each over one hundred feet long, who were scooping up the fleeing residents in their claws and chomping them like Cheez-Its.
That which had been feared, that which had been predicted had finally happened: someone somewhere had not obeyed the cardinal rule of human survival, to wit: "Sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite."
History tells us that the in-somnolent culprit, She whose disobedience to the Prime Directive opened the floodgates to damnation, was a black autistic Walgreens clerk who looked a lot like that Huxstable woman on the Cosby show.
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