Shoo Fly

So, I am happily sitting on the couch with my laptop, checking on all my stuff when my serenity is invaded by a single fly. It’s one of those half dead ones that clumsily flies into everything and currently it is clumsily flying into my laptop screen. Repeatedly. I brush it away. It comes back. I try to reason with it, telling it that it would be much more satisfying and dramatic to bump into the window, as freedom does not lie on the other side of the laptop screen, but he just won’t listen. He has signed his own death warrant. I close the laptop, grab the nearest catalog and after a brief cat and mouse game, the fly meets his untimely death. I open the computer back up and start working. Apparently the dead fly has a few buddies. Now there are two more bumping the screen. What the hell? I try to show them the dead carcass of their fallen comrade in hopes that they will become frightened of the mean human and go elsewhere but alas, flies are dumb. Two more flies bite it.

As I am pushing their bodies into a pile with the rolled up catalog, I start to hear this banging and cussing come from the kitchen. At first the banging is spaced out. As the cussing grows louder, so does the banging and the blows are coming one right after the other. Curiosity brings me to the kitchen where I see a very frazzled Dewie alternately swinging a dish towel and fly swatter. She looks up at me with crazy eyes and whispers, “They’re everywhere!” They are indeed.

“Where the hell are they coming from?”

“I. Don’t. Know.”

We check the garbage cans and compost. Nothing seems out of order. No strong odors or maggots. Well, I guess you wouldn’t see maggots if that were the case because they’re already flies, but nonetheless there are no maggots. We take everything out just in case, and spray all the cans with Lysol. We check the windows to make sure they’re not cracked. They just appeared. Probably a hundred of them. Ok, not that many, probably 50 of them. And, they’re old, slow flies too. These aren’t young, agile flies. These are old, loud buzzing, bump their ass when they fly kind of flies. They’re so old and slow that the dog is catching them in her mouth. It’s like there was a mass escape from a fly nursing home. The good news is that they should be dying soon. I mean the life span of a fly is what? Two weeks, maybe. These guys have to be on like day 13.  I think I’ll find something to do outside today, then maybe when I come in I can just sweep up their old, dead asses with a broom.