I'm going to describe what I remember.
I remember a bug with the diameter of a basketball, and a sphincter
muscle for a mouth underneath his (his?) wings.  Hey man, it just
goes to show you what heroin combined with having sex with another
man (assuming that the former is also a man) can do to some people.

I can imagine it horribly.  Your body crumbling away strand by strand,
the words, "excuse me,  but would you mind rubbing some of that powder
on my lips," staring at you through those beady bug eyes . . . and you
find your wife at home, shooting up the same bug powder . . . and she's
not really your wife.  She's a centipede.  A spy.  and according to your
typewriter (which you envision as the bug and it still has keys),
you have to get rid of her.  You put a glass on the top of her head,
aim that little pistol, and shoot her between the eyes.  But anyways, it's
all about drugs, right?


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