Thursday, May 8, 2014

ZAP-UZZ! (f#cked-up fairy tales for the seriously twisted at heart)

  If you run in fly circles (or buzz in them, as it were), then you may have heard the tales that fly Mommies and Daddies tell their pupae before they tuck them into bed at night. Some may claim they’re only stories meant to frighten impressionable young flies, but I know the ugly truth. For you see, children, I was there that fateful May evening when She…turned.


  It all started innocently enough, as these things often do. We were nothing more than a handful of ordinary flies, looking for a messy place to settle down and raise our larva, maybe buzz a head or two, then peacefully go to our reward; that Great Potato Salad in the Sky. We thought we’d found the perfect spot when we discovered the hole in the screen that led Inside the big, white house.



  The first week was everything we’d ever hoped for and MORE! The young males in the house left crumbs everywhere they went; a never ending feast for the entire colony. It was warm in the Northern Upstairs, cool and damp in the Southern Downstairs, and the leaky faucet provided all the clean water we needed.

  As word spread to every corner of the yard, more and more flies came to join in the prosperity. Our numbers exploded! It truly was our a golden age.


  Then the one She called Brother came to visit. He seemed like a nice enough guy, spilling his sweet drink on the windowsill and not just dropping crumbs, but spraying entire mouthfulls of food whenever he spoke. In our naivete, we thought He was a fly’s best friend. Then he uttered those words that not only changed the course of our history, but changed Her into some monstrous, bloodthirsty killer, “Elec-tric fly-swat-er.”



  Of course, none of us knew what that was at the time. They were merely strange words from a strange species.

  The next day everything was buzzing along as usual. We’d heard whispers of a trip to what they called The Store and boy, did we LOVE the store! A trip there meant new supplies of food to be dropped and drinks to be spilled.


  Wanting to be the first to see what was in the day’s haul, the menfolk gathered in the kitchen. While we waited, we made small talk about how fast the kids were pupating and the hidden glob of cat food in the corner of the pet area.

  She arrived home right on schedule, unpacked the bags, and put the containers away in the cabinets and the cold box. Then we saw IT. She pulled It from a bag and it smelled…strange. All wire and plastic, it sure as hell wasn’t any food we’d ever seen.



  We all flew in for a closer look, watching as She fitted what they called bat-er-ies into the handle. Then? She turned It on and…FLY-MA-GEDDON RAINED DOWN UPON OUR HEADS!

  The fly-swat-er crackled with a cold, blue flame, even as it fried our friends and family to fly crispies. At first She yelped and jumped in surprise with the loss of every life. But then, as the dreaded swat-er warmed up to its job, She warmed up to the kill. Her yelps surprise turned to squeals of delight and Her jumps of fear became leaps of joy.


  Over and over the evil ZAP-UZZ sounded, signalling the loss of another of our numbers. The air was thick with the smell of electric death and the whiff of burnt ozone. There are not words, my children, for the horror of it all! The carnage seemed to go on forever; each ZAP-UZZ punctuated by the faint click of another body hitting the floor.


  We tried to pull the bodies out of the room, but there were just too many! Besides, once She grew tired of picking us out of the air, She turned her attention to those of us on the ground.

  I’m not proud of my behavior, but I ran. I ran for cover, for fear, for the hole in the screen, and left everyone and everything behind me. The happy life I’d known faded into the echoes of ZAP-UZZ as I flew as far as my wings would carry me.


  And I’ve never been back.

  That sound haunts my dreams and waking hours alike. Sometimes even now, if I wander too close to that big, white house when the weather is warm and the windows are open, I can still hear it; that horrible, awful sound. ZAP-UZZ! ZAP-UZZ! ZAP-UZZ!

  So you see children, it’s not just a story. It’s REAL!



  That’s why when the nights grow shorter and the days are warmer, when the the doors and windows are flung wide open; fight your curiosity, fight your instinct and remember my tale, little ones. Keep to the chicken yard, keep to the woods, keep to the fresh roadkill on the asphalt, but NEVER go near the big, white house, for nothing but certain death by elec-tric fly-swat-er awaits you inside.

12 comments:

  1. ELECTRIC FLY SWATTER??!?

    I want to go to there.

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  2. Not the fairy tale I'd usually tell (though people call mine morbid), but it's fun. Will you tell us more stories? 🙂

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  3. The only downside is if you suck at bat mitten, tennis, or racquetball? You're gonna suck at knockin the little bastards out of the air. But there's always the floor…*giggle snort*
    (Wal-Hell for $5. TOTALLY worth it!)

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  4. LOL! Of course!
    I couldn't help myself. As I was frying the little buggers, I had a moment where the scene of the slaughter took on an air of the movie Platoon. (I think I may suffer from imagination overload.)

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  5. There's no such thing as an imagination overload.

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  6. While camping one summer, friends we were with brought these. They were AWESOME!! The best was when the high school aged boy uttered the words, "How much for me to lick it?" After a scramble for cash from the group, he charged it up, and tentatively stuck out his tongue toward the grate…the bright blue arc from the swatter to his tongue was glorious in the firelight, and he screamed like a little girl! The boy had a welt on his tongue for the rest of the weekend, but it was money well spent!

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  7. If only they could read. 😉

    This is great, Chris. How do you make the little cartoons?

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  8. OMG I need an electric fly swatter! Better yet—do you have one for mosquitoes??? Those little vampires invade our Florida yards every summer!

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  9. OH.MY.GAWD. That is the funniest act of stupidity ever!
    I swear Amy, it must be a guy thing. Last night, Hubby was acting like he was gonna touch one of the Offspring with it and I yelped at him. SO, to PROVE that it didn't carry that much of a charge, he grabbed the screen part. "YELP! OH SHIT!"
    Yeah. It carries a bit of a charge, alright…

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  10. Thanks Kelly!
    I'm kind of a Picmonkey junkie. I used the built in overlays and pieced them together. Like the wings are giant 8's.
    I'm still working my way through Canva, but I have yet to find something on it I can't do in half the time of Picmonkey. (Possibly because I know the site so much better, but still…)

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  11. Actually…they did have one with a finer netting that would have worked for mosquitoes, but it was 4 times as much. I keep wondering if those Off things you clip to your belt actually work.

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