Flight of the intruder

I forgot (silly me) that with the early days of spring an unwanted visitor comes – the fly. As buds begin to stir deep down in the muck that is the yard, a slight buzz begins to ring in, around, and all over the farm house meaning only one thing – the flies are coming.

The early troops have already begun to arrive. Now, I don’t want to give the impression that the farmhouse is dirty, stinky or down right disgusting – it’s not. Flies just seem to appear and no matter how many you kill there are always one or two more buzzing and breeding in the background. The great fly invasion will gain momentum and then suddenly stop come May.

These are early days though, when the obnoxious buggers are still slow, fat, and dumb and therefore easy to kill. But even then, you still have a few brilliant tacticians within the ranks.

The weapon of choice is of course a fly swatter. One or two are placed in every room. We are due to receive a new batch from headquarters soon. While fly swatters may last for years in a regular suburban home, we need a complete refit of weaponry at least once a year. When you use a fly swatter with the frequency, force and sheer disdain we do, you’d be lucky to get four to six months out of one.

My mother is the equivalent to the Red Baron in this house and her hatred of her winged opponent runs deep – all the way back to 1985. That’s when my best friend, Faye and I saw The Fly with Jeff Goldblum and Gena Davis. My mother saw him regurgitate on the donuts and vowed to kill every fly she could, so help her God.

Back to the few brilliant bugs among the masses. A practiced warrior would tell you never count your enemy out until you have a confirmed kill. In the case of flies, just because he’s lying on his back, legs motionless and pointing skyward, he isn’t exactly dead. Many are just waiting to catch you off your guard. As soon as your back is turned, he will jump to life and with sheer determination and slightly crooked flight pattern, begin to dive bomb you swearing vengeance and screaming “Buzz that mother buzzer” or something along those lines. It’s a valiant effort, but a misguided one for in the end, right and good will always prevail.

Personally, my favorite kills are when you get two in one swat. This usually happens when their tiny little minds are on, well, other things. At such times you point and giggle saying something like “They’re fornicating! They’re fornicating!” then SWAT! – Hey, at least they die with a smile on their face.

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