Satan's Spawn

It is the time of year when flies decide to overrun my house. I hate flies. I don't hate many things, but I hate flies. Flies are tied neck and neck with stink bugs. I will climb walls, stand on furniture, and lie in wait to swat a fly or stink bug. I am not agile, but my fly-killing skills are impressive. The Bibbed Wonder calls me a fly-killing ninja. He also hides my fly swatter because he tires of me walking around like a Marine sergeant, ordering him not to move a muscle until I kill a fly. I will drop whatever I am doing to stock a fly and splatter it. My focus is terrible unless I am on a mission to splat a fly where it sits buzzing. Sigh. I really hate flies. 

This time of year, the fly population does its best to invade my home. The sneaky little bast**** catch a ride on one of the dogs or us and enter our home. They then take it upon themselves to drive me insane, buzzing around me while I do a task or try to rest. They are a total distraction, and I cannot focus until I have killed it. However, I believe that just like the mythological hound of hell, when one is killed, another is produced. I have no idea where they come from, but I can kill half a dozen flies only to find six more lying in wait to annoy me. I am certain flies are the spawn of hell. 

As I sit writing to you in a charming bed and breakfast in Gettysburg, a fly is noisily buzzing around my fresh cup of coffee. You see, dear reader, they instinctively know who they can annoy the most, they hone in on that person, and they do whatever it takes to drive that person over the edge. This little bastard is going to attempt to ruin my expensive coffee delight because that is what demon spawn do: they ruin your happiness. I am without my trusty fly swatter, and I have no magazine to roll up to use as a replacement—my ninja skills do not extend to the use of my bare hands. So, I will wait unflinching for it to land and then strike. Once killed, I will give my ninja yell, "Take that, you MA-THA FU-KAWWWWW!"  Said in a sing-song voice that is a cross between a martial arts master, a crow, and an insane middle-aged woman pretending to be a ninja while doing Karate chops in the air as a victory dance. Yes, I am indeed a lot. 

So, dear reader, I sit and wait for the flies, aka Satan's spawn, to go back to hell for the year. However, I have made it my mission to take out as many of the little fu-kawws as possible before they are called back home by their dark lord. Goodness, I really hate files. And no, I have not killed the little devil that is threatening my Starbucks. Not yet, anyway. On this lovely October day, stay safe, be smart, don't let Satan's spawn destroy your happiness, kill as many of them as possible, know that soon enough it will get cold and they will die, and keep washing your hands.