Franky and the Cicadas

I heard a ghastly noise out on the porch and went to investigate. The other three cats had their eyes on Frank. It came as no surprise that he had something in his mouth. He saw me--his fun and games nemesis--and bulleted off the porch, the screeching going with him. I took off after him at a more sedate pace. Finally, I caught up with him, his toy still in his mouth, and picked him up. The horrible shrieking continued, I swear I could feel his toy vibrating just by holding him. It was now clear his current play thing was a cicada. I held on till Frank gave in and dropped his toy. The cicada flew off to safety, squealing all the way and Franky, tail swishing, took off to find his next victim, er, toy.