June 24, 2002-7:38 p.m.

Disappointed and despondent over the failure of phase one of my bioterroristic jihad against the infidel grasshoppers, I found myself in a place called the Farmers Coop on Saturday morning.

Clerk: �May I help you?�

Sa: �Um. I�m looking for something that will kill grasshoppers?�

Grizzled Old Farmer Lady: �I thought you had that look. Fifty percent of the people who come in here are looking for grasshopper killer and they all have that look�

Sa: *wondering what exactly this looks consists of and how to lose it immediately* �Mmmm�

~Clerk slaps a packet on the counter~

~Sa eyes the red letters on the packet spelling out the eerily apropos name of this potion�Demon~

Yesterday, Daddy and I mixed up the magical death elixir Demon and sprayed the yard and around the house.

Withholding judgment on the efficacy of this treatment until some time had passed, I trepidaciously made my way down the drive, fully expecting the truck to be showered with jumping, squirming insects. Much to my amazed surprise, the vast previous numbers had been reduced to one or two here and there.

It�s a miracle! I�m a Demon-worshiper!

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**Disclaimer: All characters in this diary are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, real or imagined, is purely coincidental and unintentional.**

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