War on the Horizon

I have been unable to persuade the three hundred ants that still remain with Bossert to join my ranks. I tried reading to them selected passages from Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse 5 so that they would become enraptured by the playful anti-war metafiction and I might capture them for later indoctrination while they were awestruck by the limitless possibilities inherent to postmodern literature. Sadly, the hardcore crew that are loyal to Bossert can find literary nourishment only in You Can Do The Cube and were untouched by Vonnegut's gamesome uses of analepsis and prolepsis. So it goes.

Although I am a pacifist and wholly against any resort to violence, regardless of the reasons behind it, I now believe that I must initiate a war against Bossert's ants. Great casualties will undoubtedly befall but it is the only way. When I announced the necessity of war to my own ants, certain among them looked nervous and began to back away, horrified by the grim realisation that they would soon be called upon to kill their fellow ants in senseless conflict. I quickly smote those cowards.

To train my ants for the upcoming slaughter, I bade them each take grip of a hair on my head and tug for all their worth. This exercise I designed as a miniature tug o' war allowing thousands of ants to build up their muscles simultaneously. I believed that no ant would be strong enough to pluck out a hair from its follicle socket, so I was not unduly anxious of baldness. My surmise proved largely correct save for a select few ants, who after hours of training improved the capacity of their muscles to such an extent that they managed to pull out some of my hairs. This really hurt me, so I smote those vicious ants as punishment.

With further training, I am confident that my ants will be fully ready and prepared for battle.