The Fly

You know those kids who you drive by and are nuking some ant hill with a magnifying glass?

Yeah, I was one of those, but a lot worse. I would spend hours planning my assault on helpless bugs. I couldn’t help it. Some invisible little boy force had taken ahold of me and told me what to do.

“Kill the bugs,” it said.

All I could do was obey. This all stopped after several people whitnessed my actions and filed complaints. The bugs never forgave me though, and they’re getting their revenge on me now.

They’ve sent a demon fly to haunt me here in Germany. It won’t leave me alone. The fly hides in a corner, and just when I forget about it, it dive-bombs me right in the eye. I then smack my face hoping to catch it, but it is somehow, magically, on the other side of the room flicking me off.

Whenever I sit down to eat, this fly goes right for my food, where I’m pretty sure it relieves itself. All I can do is shoo it away and get some new food for it to ruin.

The worst though is when I sleep. I’ll wake up at two in the morning to a soft buzzing. I’ll wonder what it is, and then it will stop, and then right before I fall back to sleep it’ll start up again. This fly has somehow learned to fly extra slow in the dark. It will hover around my ear, impervious to my frantic blind swings at it. And as soon as I turn on the lights, the fly takes off with lightening speed and sounds like a motorboat with a diesel engine.

So, this is my formal apology to the bugs of the world. I hope this enough for you to take this evil fly out of my life. I swear I’ll never torch an innocent ant hill ever again.


Leave a comment

Filed under insanity

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s