Wandering down the street, vaguely pondering the next move in my ongoing quest, I stopped in amazement, to stare at the flyer stapled to a telephone pole.

The Locust were putting on a musical performance at a local entertainment club!

I hurried down and purchased my ticket.

I arrived early, flush with excitement, and eager to see the focus of my investigation in their only area appearance. (I had heard tales of fans taking long bus rides to see them at multiple cities on their tour, but that just seemed idiotic.)

Soon the lights dimmed and a hush fell over the crowd. A hundred tiny flames from a candellabra hanging in the center of the music hall was the only illumination. A string quartet were playing a medly of current hardcore hits to the great enjoyment of the crowd.

Soon the opening act was over and the crowd tensed for the main performance. Four horrible insect-beings lurched convulsively onto the stage and fumbled with their instruments, obviously uncomfortable with the unnatural movements of bipedal locomotion.

With a deafening shriek a thirty foot tall wall of amplifier heads came on. The speaker cabinets were lost in the shadows behind the stage, but easily towered over the gigantic atomic robots that the club employed as bouncers.

Looking around, I saw that the entire audience was bent over, hands clasped to ears, cringing before the awesome might of amplification. I glanced at the door, wondering if the paramedics would be on time for the innevitable catastrophe, but all I could see were The Locust's roadies chaining the doors closed, then welding wrought iron bars across the chains.

Straining to hear myself scream in terror, I turned back towards the stage just in time to see The Locust starting their set.

And what wonderfull melodious sounds did I hear?

Like a giant flock of sharks dancing upon the face of the sun, exploding into flame, yet still swimming, and biting, and killing, and singing, singing their songs of peace and wonderment.

A sweet siren song of doom, the music conjured a smile upon the faces of the huddled multitudes.

A single isolated blade of grass seems insignificant on the battlefield of death, yet if one were to study every interaction it has with the environment around it, the complexities within, and the miraculous complexity of its very existance and design, you would see the truth of its overwhelming power of destruction and inescapable evil. Mankind would throw down its arms, slit its own throat, and fall face first into the mud before the emminently victorious blade of grass, if only the full truth could be known.

But I digress.

The music was beautifull, the lyrics uplifting and inspirational.

All too soon it seemed, the performance was over, and the crowd was left in its hypnotic daze.

As I slowly wandered outside, a shadow darting across the street attracted my attention and I looked up to see my dog flying far overhead on his newly grown insect wings.

It all makes sense now. The Locust had to bite my dog to help him progress to the next level of canine evolution!

I went back into the club to thank The Locust, but they had already left.