The Escapist

caffeinewitchcraft:

funnyfoxes55:

prokopetz:

Concept: financially struggling biology student discovers that the reason her monthly data bill is so high is because an ant colony in her basement has been stealing her wi-fi.

@caffeinewitchcraft

“I’m not angry,” she says from the top of the basement stairs. “Just disappointed.”

Below, a million hard exoskeletons glitter in the light streaming through the open door. The floor is completely covered in them, the hard-packed dirt rounded and molded into their home.

With a sigh, she starts down the stairs. “Don’t you swarm at me. I give you food, I give you shelter and this, this is the repayment I get! Where’s the Queen?”

There’s the sound of insects rushing past each other and a black mound begins to form. It grows higher and higher, moving slowly towards the bottom step, until it’s at her waist. Slowly, the top layer of workers peels back to reveal the Queen in all her glory.

The Queen is easily the length of her hand, glittering and gorgeous in the faint light. She had been the one to make the Queen last semester as part of her final project. Her professor had given her an A on the condition that she destroy the Queen and her genetically enhanced children, but, instead, she’d taken them home.

“Look at this,” she says, thrusting her bill in front of the Queen’s tiny head. “I can’t afford this! I don’t–where did you all even get computers?”

The ants surge guiltily, producing a mac that looks very, very familiar.

“You stole my ex’s laptop.” It’s not a question. “That’s–alright, that’s pretty funny. I’m not going to take it away, relax, but you all need to figure out how to pay for this, okay? I can’t feed you and entertain you on my stipend, okay?”

The Queen regally nods. There’s a shift in the air as she communicates with the others and another mound of ants forms and pushes forward. This one opens to reveal a plastic bag filled with dirt-covered jewelry and a handful of…ancient coins?

She takes the bag, staring blankly at it. “Okay…I’m not going to ask. I don’t want to know. I’ll invest in better internet and pretend that you guys aren’t about two seconds from opening a chop shop or crime ring or whatever in my basement.”

The ants wave agreeably.

She turns to go and pauses halfway up. “I have to ask. What do you guys even need internet for?”

The mac flickers on to show Jessica Jones paused halfway through episode six.

“Fair enough,” she says and goes to google local pawn shops that don’t ask too many questions