Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Lord of the Flies

     Company, please don't come to my home anytime soon.  The Worldwide Headquarters are closed to the general public because there are things happening.  Bad thing.  Shit is going down.  If you were waiting for the elevator and the doors opened and Shit was standing inside and you asked which way the elevator was going he would say "Going Down"  Dane Cook would say that it "was on."  And it is on.  There is a war that has begun to amp up between myself, your beloved Big Dave, and some super intelligent flies that have taken up residence in my apartment.
     I don't know when they took up residence, but I think it was before I moved in.  I can remember them being here, especially in my kitchen, as long as I have been here.  But in today's society that doesn't matter.  One is no longer able to homestead or squat.  I had to tell that to a guy on the phone the other day.  Maybe someone should have told the flies that.  Because they are here and they do not want to go away.
     It started rater innocently.  There was one flying around getting all up in my business.  So when I came around and he was trying to copulate with the screen on my kitchen window or something I thought that I had found the perfect opportunity to do away with him.  So I shut the window.  I figured that if I shut him in between the window and the screen, exposed to the elements with no food or water for a day or two he would perish and I wouldn't have to listen to him buzz around anymore.  So imagine my surprise when I came around the next day and he was still alive.  But he didn't get out so I shut the window on him again, thinking he'd be dead by tomorrow.  And he was.  But there were two of his friends in there with him who weren't in there before.  I don't know how they got there or why they were there, but it was then and there that I realized that I was in deep.  It was like I had killed the sentry and the flies had called in the reinforcements.
     And the reinforcements came.  Yesterday as I tried to hang up my wet laundry I had four flies buzzing me like I was King Kong trying to climb up a building or something.  Seriously.  Now I was just going to get some fly paper and call it a day, but as the four made figure eights around my head and the rod holding my clothes succumbed to the effects of gravity I decided that I couldn't take much more.  I knew that I had to go on the offensive.  So that's what I did.
     Armed with nothing but my Menards Flier of Justice I went after the greatest pilots that the Dirty Fly Air Force had to offer.  And down they went.  One on the ceiling next to the light.  Two on the screen as he stopped for fresh air.  Three went down about an hour later while he was sitting on the wall above the sink.  He didn't even see it coming and made a smear on the wall.  At that point four went CRAZY!  C-R-A-Z-Y CRAZY!  First he dived behind the paper towel holder.  But then when he jabbed his ugly little mug out from behind and I took a swipe at him with my Menards Flier of Justice he took off.  He buzzed circles around the room and dove at my head.  HE DIVE BOMBED ME!  I have never had to combat such an intelligent insect before.  It's like the guy went to flight school somewhere or something.  Or he just hung around some people who played a lot of video games, I don't know.  But this guy had moves.  I never did kill Number Four.  He eventually set down on the light and seemed content enough to be there.  And it was a smart move.  He knew he was safe.  He likes the warmth.  He knew that I couldn't and wouldn't swipe at the light for fear of breaking it.  So I decided that I had won enough of the battles for the day and I turned off the light.
     Little bastard followed me into the bedroom.  He whizzed right in there after I went through the door and set on that light too.  I decided to leave him be.  He had earned to live another day, flying around my place looking at the dead carcasses of his buddies.  He doesn't seem to be around today but I think he might be licking his wounds in the area under the table in the breakfast nook.  I am sure he will be back.  And that's fine.  Because I will be waiting and I will win this war.  With nothing but my Menards Flier of Justice and a little fly paper.  Oh, and my drop-dead killer instinct.  Can't forget that.

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