It’s not the one that stalked me personally around the Great Lakes during my first and last camping trip. It seems to be a new strain found nearer civilization and indoor plumbing.
Not many are aware of its existence because the first generation has begun to invade my house, specifically the front porch. Closer and more frightening studies are therefore yet to come.
My first encounter with this new mosquito was recently while sitting on said front porch. It was a most peaceful evening with citronella candles lit as I relaxed at the end of the day. A pleasant breeze wafted and I said “ahh” as I sipped wine.
Then I heard something. It wasn’t a bird chirping or a squirrel squirreling. It rather sounded unlike any of the other mosquitoes repelled by the candles. Its vibrato was louder, its range of soprano voice was lowered to a strong alto, and it wailed in a minor key. It sounded mournful as it circled, like the eerie rhythms that pulse during nightmares.
Suddenly, I caught a glimpse. Was it a bat? Was it a plane? No, it was a Brontosaurus mosquito! Back from the Ages, back from the history books, and back to torture relaxing hags on front porches.
I noticed right away that the creature was quite large. While other mosquitoes can be smacked by a fly swatter or the palm of a hand, the Brontosauruses need a swinging baseball bat or a hurling meteorite headed for its extinction.
It circled me as I seethed into a knee jerk swatting episode. I turned into a blur of activity at each attempt to slay this monster on stilts. My panic was futile, however, because this new strain is immune to anger. Its wingspan, about the size of a single-engine airplane is also shaped so that it can dart and hover at a swats notice.
It also is the first insect on the face of the earth to develop a sense of humor, though archeologists can only speculate about running jokes among rows of teeth dug from hillsides. The current strain has an odd behavior that entertains itself while watching some new victim become hostile while swiping at nothing. The madder the victim, the harder it laughs.
The new Brontosaurus mosquito has also developed anatomy that makes it more efficient at food gathering. The sucking apparatus, for instance, has evolved to the size of snorkeling equipment. That way, the insect can submerge itself for longer periods of time dredging the blood stream. It can thereby neutralize regular repellent and scan the bottom sentiment for a fresh cocktail of red blood with an Rh-negative chaser. Undigested pizza and white wine are also dessert selections on the sucking menu.
Most mosquitoes are attracted to dark colors and perspiration. This one rather fancies gray hair, traces of bar soap and flecks of pink deodorant. It also strikes unreachable parts of the body giving it more time to feed and leaving a bite mark impossible to scratch. Once it finds an appropriate victim, say an old hag wearing bifocals, it performs a circling ritual while rubbing its antennae and tying a bib in preparation for a major feast.
The Center for Disease Control in Atlanta is still unaware of this Brontosaurus mosquito on my porch but will soon when I report lingering side effects from the bite. The first noticeable side effect is a listlessness that makes it impossible to get up for work the next day. There is also irreparable ear damage making it more offensive to hear alarm clocks. Other nagging symptoms include crabby dispositions, unexplained weight gain and the addition of more falling chins. Slight nausea appears at the approach of the smiling mailman about to deliver bills.
The CDC did report, however, that stress from working overtime seemed to attract various biting insects that have developed super powers over time. Thus dinosaurs that have held secrets in the ground for millennia are on the rise again looking for victims with especially tantalizing blood streams. There seems a priority to seek wine-drinking hags on porches. With any luck, there will be another catastrophic Brontosaurus mosquito episode where vineyards produce a higher octane wine designed for porch combat.