If you are of a nervous disposition, do not read the following story.

This is a story about some ants. It takes place on Easter 2010. It was a day like any other, except it was Easter, which is a day for visiting family. I visited my cousins, who I will call for the sake of anonoymity (to protect them from this website's numerous child molesters) James and Ben. James is twelve. Ben is nine.

James and Ben have an anthill in their garden, and this is where the adventure begins. Now, this may come as a shock to you, but I am a gigantic manchild and I do not consider playing with anthills to be below me. And so, to celebrate Easter, my cousins and I retrieved some olive oil and poured it over the hill. Ants scattered everywhere. The games began.

First, we selected our ants. James went for the biggest ant he could find, naming it Chudleigh Cromwell, known as Mr Green to some for his greenish tint. Ben chose a fast ant, known only as Nameless. I chose a skinny fellow called Little Sebastian, known to his friends as Sebastian.

Before they could escape, we placed our ants in the olive oil puddle and it kicked off. Little Sebastian died within ten seconds, and I felt sick to think I had once loved him. Things started to go well for Nameless as he slowly pulled himself towards the edge of the puddle, only to drown a centimetre from freedom. Cromwell, the last man standing, was pulled from the oil, only to die seconds later.

It was one point to James and time for round two.

I selected my ant. His name was Big Boy Bradley and he was bad to the bone. So bad even that he escaped from my hand while I was looking the other way. I was forced to replace him with Johnny Sting - a pitiful subsitute for BBB. Meanwhile, James found a old chap named Wilburt the Warrior. Ben found a red ant called Strong Man Steve. We knew things would be tough between these three.

Almost as soon as they were in the oil, Johnny Sting stopped moving and allowed himself to die. I felt like a fool for ever placing my faith in that failure. However, I had no time to feel self-sorry. Out of nowhere, Silly Boy Spider had run and dived straight into the oil! Strong Man Steve cared not for this act of attempted suicide and continued towards the edge. Wilburt, however, was not called a warrior for nothing. In an act of great heroism, he swam towards Silly Boy Spider and attempted to rescue him. It was in vain. The pair of them perished together.

Strong Man Steve was at the edge. We watched with amazement as he pulled himself out of the foul liquid. Then, to our surprise, he fell still. Perhaps the futility of life had finally caught up with him, we know not. But whatever his reasons, Strong Man Steve decided it was best to climb back into the oil and there he allowed himself to drown.

Then we pulled their bodies out and cut them up with a knife. Discuss.