
Last week on Twisted Tuesdays: As The Lash Burns
The heat turned up and the secrets got silkier.
Eyebrows vanished from police custody, leaving behind a honey-stained message: “She knows. Protect the larva.” Lashy scrambled to escape after a stink bug grenade exploded in her flat. With her bestie and Little Lasha in tow, she ducked into a run-down moth motel—only to hear Little Lasha humming Mr. Wiggles’ secret lullaby.
Meanwhile, Eyebrows was alive and in hiding, receiving a dossier linking Lashy, Mr. Wiggles… and an unexpected player: Cruz.
And while the city swarmed with chaos, across town at The Dotted Line—a luxe ladybug lounge—another web of lies was spinning.
Dottie, the glamorous bartender with a secret life, met in secret with her forbidden love: Cruz, a caterpillar informant with ties to the underground insect intel network. Their love was dangerous, hidden, and now under surveillance by the ominous Cocoon Syndicate.
This week on Twisted Tuesdays: As The Lash Burns
The glittery smoke clears.
Lashy crawls out from behind the couch, wings trembling. Her bestie is clutching Little Lasha like a sacred larva. “Girl, we gotta go—now!” she yells, eyes darting toward the blown-out window.
But outside… silence. No sign of the attackers. Just the faint trail of crushed marigold petals—somebody left in a hurry.
Meanwhile:
Eyebrows, alive. Underground. Wrapped in a makeshift blanket made of mothwing fibers, he’s sipping nectar from a bottlecap in a candle-lit bunker. A mystery insect slides a folder across the table. Inside: photos of Lashy, Mr. Wiggles… and Cruz.
Eyebrows narrows his eyes. “I knew it. She’s not the only one with secrets.”
Back in the city, Lashy and her bestie have taken shelter in a moth motel. Little Lasha is curled up in her cocoon blanket, humming a lullaby only Mr. Wiggles used to sing. Lashy freezes.
“She’s never heard that before,” she whispers. “How does she know it?”
Just then, the TV flashes with breaking news: “Public Enemy #1: Eyebrows Escapes Custody—Lashy Named as Possible Accomplice.”
Her bestie gasps. “Girl, they coming for you now.”
In the shadows:
In the background of the news broadcast, barely visible behind the anchor bug’s wing—a familiar red-and-black spotted shell. Dottie. Watching from the shadows.
Double lives. Missing larvae. Secret lullabies.
Next up: Who’s really pulling the strings, and will love survive the bug storm?
Discover more from Bad Hand Clothing
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.