These are not ants. They aren't even close. I don't think I'll take my chances, thanks. Besides, what do you care what they need to live? We need to find out what they need to die. [ She pauses a second, listening to the faint noises from Marco's end, and then her voice gets that angrily incredulous tone to it that her Marco is definitely familiar with by now, that raised-by-half-an-octave-even-if-she-won't-admit-it kind of shrill outburst. ]

Are you keeping those things as pets? Marco!