[Okay, while the thought of millions (she thought it was thousands) of centipedes crawling everywhere sends a cold chill up Perona's spine, she is slowly beginning to think this is indeed some kind of dumb trick. A-And if it's not, she can always float off the ground before they get her! Y-Yes, a foolproof plan!!]

Is that so? You don't seem too burdened by their weight. I'd expect millions of nasty bugs to weigh you down some. [Slowly, Perona approaches the swinging longnose, closing her parasol and rolling it up. She stops his swinging with its point at his chest, holding it out at arms length.] But you're swinging perfectly fine, like a spider on a string yourself.

Or a worm on a hook.