Melia Mantis had been teaching Feminine Hygiene for a dozen years, since the accident. To look at her, her lime hair in shellacked buns on the corners of her head, her prothorax nothing to write home about, it was hard to imagine she had once been Miss Greece and a promising sex researcher. Had she isolated that pheromone that drives male mantids so wild they don’t mind getting their heads bitten off, she’d be Queen of the Earth. Instead she was a nine-foot-tall predatory insect with an enormous caboose, things sometimes turning out differently than one imagines they will.

Miss Mantis loved her girls, though, she often said, while despising them.

“Ladies,” she addressed them with a sensuous Grecian hiss. “Shut it up now.”

From Go Mutants, pg. 56

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