Imagine being a fly on the wall in this room. Your dumb friend, let’s call him Jeff, just flew over to a Special Forces member and professional Mixed Martial Artist and landed on his face, interrupting some sort of interview. Rude yet audacious. How can you truly blame Jeff, it’s what your species has been wired to do for eons: land on the faces of things. It’s hard to blame instincts in situations with hot lights when you are a fly. So you see Jeff flying around down there and you can tell he is in trouble; the giants are restless. Releasing your sticky graspers from the wall and diving towards the giant flaying human you open your mandibles frantically in an attempt to warn your fly buddy, but it’s too late. Through your compound eyes you witness another giant with a huge weapon crushing Jeff to death on the crew cut giant’s face. Jeff’s lifeless and limp mesothorax is splattered against Brian Stann’s chiseled chin. Overkill. Now you must escape.
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