We just don't know what this was all about.
We lunched here. There were no hunters—besides us, that is: Hunters of Love!
The dying wasp I found in the parking lot of Jessie's Hungry Hunter.
All we got at the DQ was an ice cream (trans-fat free!) for Hugh; I was still too full from lunch at Jessie's.
I believe that this wasp is what I mistook for a stone flying through the open window and hitting me in the temple very hard. It wasn't until later when we stopped and I got out that I discovered this poor fellow on the car seat; he was barely alive. If he felt like a stone on my temple, then my head must have felt like Mount Rushmore to him. R.I.P., little wasp.
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