Just that morning, the assassin bug had thoughts about retiring. Not that he wasn’t doing great; he was at the top of his game. But he had this nagging feeling that he was beginning, just beginning, to lose his edge. And an assassin bug with no edge is in the wrong business. He hadn’t always worked the trade. Not too long ago he was flipping maggots in some greasy log, barely getting by. Then one night, after a long shift...

The Minotaur had a score to settle. He was trapped in the center of the Labyrinth, spellbound so he could not leave. And who was the monster that cast the spell, imprisoning him thus? None other than his namesake, the evil King Minos. And Minos didn’t even have the decency to have plumbing installed. Day in and day out the Minotaur paced the Labyrinth’s center, his powerful feet wearing a groove into the marble floor. Alw...

The unsung hero of every ant colony is the butler. A butler in an ant colony? What does she do, you may ask, serve drinks? No, or at least that’s not what I do. Not that it stops wisecracking ants from yelling, “Hey, butler, fetch us a drink!” They think they’re so funny. If they even bothered to watch Masterpiece Theatre, they’d know a butler does a lot more than tend bar. Find a cocktail waitress if you need a drink. Th...