you won't get me fucker

While [walking] along the outskirts of the crag, you once again hear a telltale buzzing that grates against your ears. The sound makes you shudder, but your [if (singleleg) {feet trudge|body shifts}] forth, once again bearing you to its source. You don't know why you bother, as you know what you're going to find, but something about the sound demands a response, no matter how preposterous it might seem.

And sure enough, you need only look under a small rock overhang to see the familiar beetle-girl. She's looking hale and hearty after what happened in your last encounter, though the expression on her face isn't any less angry. The buzzing is just as obnoxious, too, but this time something's slightly different—she's holding something in her hands. The object is too obscured by her back plates for you to see clearly, but it seems to be small and roughly cylindrical.

When you call out, she looks up, and immediately smirks, the aura of self-satisfaction she exudes nearly knocking you to the ground. You're incredibly confused, but before you can even ask, she starts to speak, her voice dripping with caustic irony. [say:Oh, funny seeing you here. Almost as if you were drawn to it. Yeah, I know. You can try to hide it, but I [b:know] how much you want this.] She holds up the curious object; it's about a foot long, made of wood, with a flared base and a cover on the top. [say:Just admit it already. It's just sad watching you try to keep this up, really. You try to pretend that you're somehow better, when it's really shit like this that forms the entire basis of your life.]

What even is it?

[say:Shut the fuck up. There's no way you don't know, fucking everyone knows about it. I can see it in your eyes, you're so transparent.]

She waves the object at you, but you don't understand any better. Why does she seem to have it out for you? As far as you're aware, you haven't really done anything to her personally. It was just like this last time, too.

[say:What do you mean? This is the first time I've seen your disgusting mug,] the beetle says with a sneer.

No, you definitely met before. And she was just complaining about you, too.

[say:What, are you saying that everyone who disagrees with you is the same person? Fucking pathetic. You need to go back to whatever shithole you crawled out of.]

Having said this, she scrabbles to her feet and scuttles off, though not before you notice a red, irritated mark on her forehead. You sigh and turn back to the crag.