Go read that (go on, I'll wait).
Now, allow me to tell you a little story.
Once upon a time, there was a French girl who lived alone in her Parisian flat, where really she had to fend for herself against all the nasty jumping and flying insects that invaded her home on a daily basis.
One night, she went to bed and started reading her book. Suddenly, she spotted a grasshopper on her ceiling. She thought nothing of it; after all, it was only a wee thing, barely an inch long. She turned off the light at the end of the chapter and went to sleep.
As if on cue, the grasshopper started inching its way onwards until it was right above the girl's head. It seemed to be acting weirdly, as if remotely controlled, with erratic moves and lots of stops and starts. The girl moved in her sleep. She turned on her side. Her ear was now in full sight of the grasshopper, offering itself as an ideal landing ground.
Once the target was locked, the grasshopper dropped right into the girl's ear!
The girl swatted lightly at her ear, oblivious of the danger. At the sudden movement, the grasshopper stopped moving. From its mandibles a worm slowly exited, making its way deep inside the external auditory meatus*, until it came to rest against the eardrum. It rested a while there, and then, with vibrations that could only be described with outlandish, alien even, wavelengths, started brainwashing the girl. The latter, by now deep in sleep, was putty in its... rings.
She got up in a sleepwalking daze, walked to the nearest bridge - quite a long way away -, jumped into the Seine river and drowned herself: the worm's evil spawn could now live and thrive!
My hoover deserves a medal.