Imagine this:

There’s a supermodel beckoning to you. She’s beautiful; awe-inspiring; angelic. She’s lying in your bed naked, waiting for you to take her. She can be anyone you want. Megan Gale, Jennifer Hawkins, or every Miss Universe in history rolled into one. She’s the ultimate teenage fantasy.

So you dive towards her, abandoning caution in favour of lust, and… TREACHERY! She is no sex goddess! She is an evil demon of blinding light and screeching flames, burning your flesh and scalding your face!

This is what life is like for moths.