I spiral down over the wheat field. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. The parched fields below glow gold in the evening light while the Nile sparkles in the distance. The evening is cool and still as my brethren and I begin our divine mission. My mandibles clack. I am ready.
The wheat is tough and sun-dried from the earlier plagues, but I feel the divine strength of the Lord fortify my mouth parts. I tear through the stalks as the peasants look on in horror. We decimate field after field, laying waste to the land. The Lord my god looks down and sees that my work is good.