Congratulations on Finding Out Where Ant Milk Comes From!

When you saved those ant people from that horrible antlion oppressor you knew you were going to get a sweet ass reward.  You had your eye on some ant-gold or ant-silver, maybe.  But you never in your wildest dreams thought you’d end up with a nice big old glass full of ant milk.

“Where does this come from?” you’ll ask the ants when they deliver your prize.  They’ll click insensibly at you in response, pushing the glass closer and closer to you and wiggling their cute little antennae up at you expectantly.  Not wanting to disappoint them, you’ll drink it down in one quick gulp.

It will taste foul beyond belief, but you’ll tough it out and keep it down.  You’ll smile and politely thank the ant people for their gift.  Then you’ll push the glass back over to the ants, at which point they’ll climb up the side of the glass and post themselves along the rim before vomiting into it collectively.  Slowly, surely, this ant-vomit will take on form as the ant milk you just drank.

You’ll shrug, even as your stomach twinges.  A nervous reaction, you’ll think.  Then you’ll start coughing.  When you cover your mouth with your hand you’ll notice blood staining your palm.  Horror will freeze you for a few moments, then you’ll stumble to your feet and rush as fast as you can to the street, where you’ll do your best to vomit.  But before you move three steps a coughing fit will bear you to the ground and you’ll sit there on your hands and knees feeling the dim pain in your stomach turn to a deafening, blurring sensation that overwhelms all other aspects of your reality.

Tears will well up in your eyes as you realize that the ant milk wasn’t ant milk after all: it was formic acid.  After a few horrifying, terribly painful minutes, your life will be over.  The ants will start crawling all over you almost immediately.  They’ll turn your mortal shell into a tremendous ant-home of sorts.  Your legacy will last for a hundred ant generations, or around a month, before your body is too badly decomposed to provide the ants with any sort of worthwhile infrastructure whatsoever.  The ragged pile of meat and bones that you’ll leave behind will become your legacy, forever cementing your reputation as a cautionary tale showing that people should really do their best to graduate from high school.

Congratulations on Finding Out Where Ant Milk Comes From!