He felt it was high time someone did something about it. It had been sitting there for several days, and no one had bothered to touch it, much less move it. The fungus had not yet penetrated the outer skin, but he knew it would not take long for the bloom to spread across its glossy surface, which had remained largely intact except for some irregular purple striations across the top. Once that happened, things would get out of hand very quickly.
He did not want to use a respirator, but he had to have gloves, the heavy duty ones. A shovel and a garden wheelbarrow would have been useful, but he knew he would not be able to find them, or for that matter, anyone else to lend a hand.
The thing was heavier than he expected, and it could not be rolled. He picked it up and lifted it to his shoulders, feeling it vibrate gently as it emitted little hisses through the twin vents at the crown. What had once been eyes had long since withdrawn within the folds of its carapace, and the vestigial feelers were no longer functional. One antenna was already withered.
He had many steps to climb before he reached the disposal area. Once at the top, he uttered the usual incantations and then, with a great heave, he flung the quivering object into the seething cauldron below.
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