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Now on to the show.

This is Ria. Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People. On a recent trip to the Ping Pong Store,

I was right in the middle of the aisle where they keep thousands of ping pong balls piled up all over the place.

You know what I'm talking about.

I was selecting the perfect gift for my neighbor, Rodalvo, who plays ping pong late into the night with

his brother. I was shopping for a silent ping pong ball. It makes no noise when it hits the table. It's a technological wonder.

On the same level as, I don't know, the invention of the kazoo. Anyway, just as I reached out to pluck this high-tech silent ping-pong ball from the top of a pile,

I was knocked over by an unsettling thought. I literally fell over into an enormous pile of ping pong balls which promptly scattered around

the entire aisle.

Seven teen people kindly rushed over to help me up and what was the unsettling thought that led to the scattering of thousands of ping-pong balls? I had no idea what Mr.

Beetle had been up too lately. After helping sweep up the ping pong balls I'd

scattered, I fled the store. I ran at top speed all the way home,

forgetting to buy the silent ping pong ball for Rodolfo, a mistake for which I'm paying at this exact moment. But it was all worth it, every

weird moment, because when I got home, I sat down on my hard metal stool and I wrote this

Mr. Beetle story. Let's get to it. It's called Mr. Beetle and the Heckler.

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