Batchee was a simple insect. He had a wife and two kids, they lived on the Baratie for years. He would make his rounds daily, crawling around finding crumbs to bring back to his family.
"Daddy I want bread today!" the daughter insect asked.
"Yes Daddy please!" pleaded the son insect.
"Kids, the restaurant is awfully busy right now, your father can gather bread a different time…" said Martha, Batchee's wife.
"Martha please. They are starving, I will be quick, I promise." He said to her assuringly.
The kids cheered in delight and watched their father scurry along the Baratie floor gathering what he could. Dodging feet, left and right, avoiding being seen by the humans.
Batchee was on his way back home. He could see the joy in his children's faces.
Suddenly Batchee was crushed by a human's shoe.
"DADDDYY!" the kids screeched in the distance.
Bachee was severely injured, as the human began to pick him up, the last sight he could see were his kids screaming in terror.
He was then dropped in a warm liquid that tasted damn near delicious, yet he was drowning.
"God what have I done…" his last thoughts were. "Is this how this ends…with the karma of gluttony?"
"Kids…take good care of Mommy when I'm gone…"
Bacthee's body ceased in movement.
His spirit left his body before the bowl of soup was knocked over.
His dead bug body on the floor. Martha and the kids weep in the distance.
To this day Batchee's soul haunts the Baratie. Some say they can feel him scoot across their feet, others say they see shadows in their soup…but nothing is there.
And if you listen closely in the silence between when folks are eating…you can distinctly hear:
"Fuck Zappos"