Less of an attack, more a case of harassment
A few days ago, I was peacefully sitting in my room, reading the entire internet in an attempt to avoid doing the work I was supposed to be doing. My window was open a crack, enough to let out fag smoke, but not nearly enough for any winged beasties to find their way in.

So I thought.

At 9.13 a fly buzzed in. I immediately opened the window fully to allow the little git out. It did not immediately take me up on this offer of non-conflict and instead angrily circled the light fitting.

I decided to offer it a five minute period of grace to remove itself from my presence. Here I made a terrible error: negotiating with terrorists. It decided to flaunt my weakness by buzzing around my head. So I did what any reasonable human being would do and declared war. This fly would die.

I grabbed the two most important tools that any fly-hunter will need: a rolled-up newspaper and a can of deodorant.

But the bastard is clever. I am five foot three, and crap at jumping. Although my arms are disproportionately long, there was still no way I could reach the unreasonably high ceiling. The little bastard knew this, it was clever. So it stayed up there, and I waited for it to make a mistake.

Finally, it flew to the space on the ceiling just above the bed. I clambered up, and it was now within reach. It sat, knitting its little front legs, and I moved in for the kill.

It was fast, too. Riduculously fast. I succeeded in bringing down some of the Artex on the ceiling.

I considered combining a lighter with the can of deodorant, to fashion a flame-thrower. I think my airborne enemy must have developed psychic powers--perhaps it was a genetically modified military experiment--as it immediately retreated to a convenient spot at the top of the curtains.

Thankfully, it was within reach of the spray, so it was time for me to breach international law and use chemical weapons. I pressed the button, and my quarry began to fly erratically, suddenly dropping out of the air.

I rejoiced! It was dead! I had won! But where was its hairy little corpse?

I made possibly my silliest mistake. I did not look for the body, assuming it had dropped into the nether region of mess behind my desk.

Ten minutes later, it was time for the sequel. My fuzzy foe had faked his own death and was now severely pissed off. He returned to the onslaught of buzzing in my face, then retreating to higher ground.

It stayed on the ceiling for a while; perhaps it was asleep. By now blind with fury, I wheeled my wheely chair to beneath it, and climbed up, armed with my trusty copy of the Guardian. Wielding my weapon like a baseball bat, I took a swing.

And fell off my chair. Hands up if you could see that coming. With hindsight, I definitely could. So now I was angry and with a sore foot. I vowed that this winged demon would die a peasant's death. I would catch it, and pull its legs off. Perhaps its wings too. And I'm usually a pacifist.

I wish I could tell you that I succeeded in my plan for revenge. Or perhaps that the fly and I settled our differences and embarked upon a plan for world domination.

But the most depressing part of this tale is that there was no resolution. The two-hour battle had made me work up a thirst (not to mention that constantly spraying solvents around tends to dry out the old mouth a little), so I toddled off to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

My nemesis followed me out of the room and left via the kitchen window.

I suppose this would be equivalent to all the Nazis moving to the moon.
( Queen of Cheesecake, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 17:43, 3 replies)

Even though you read the guardian

*massive click* for a brilliant story!
( Naked Ape call me Caitlyn, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 17:50, closed)

Just to be contrary
I shall click simply because you read the guardian.

Only kidding, I liked the story. But good choice of paper.
(Bazongaloid, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 21:10, closed)

I will click
but I can't help but wonder, how do you see something coming with hindsight?
(LickOutTheJamsMotherfuckers!, Fri 25 Apr 2008, 2:08, closed)