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I hate flies. I HATE them. The way they buzz

  • I hate flies. I HATE them. The way they buzz around and zoom back and forth. They're dirty! The NOISE they make. They just bug me! And Michael bugged me too. That's why I had to

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  • ask the nerd at Home Depot for a bug zapper able to kill a really big fly. "How big, Sir?" "About yay high," I showed him (I knew Michael's measurements). "Follow me." He led us

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  • down the pest control isle,past the usual collection of zappers.”Unusual size”,he said,opening a security door in the back of the shop.”We might have something in our lab.”Behind t

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  • humper is always either a skunk or a fawn. That was my wise old grandmother's saying. He leaped through the security door and did a roll into the lab. Steaming things and atomic

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  • wings' aromas wafted through the air. Someone had dragged a wind machine into the lab again. Thumper hopped over to a control panel and

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  • Forced it to exit by shutting off the automatic doors. Ak The grammophone played Bowie music, which was most appropriate. I felt like Major Tom. Thumper and I made a toast to

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  • myself, giggling with drunken laughter. I tripped over the gramophone, making the song play backwards. This only made me laugh more and I collapsed on the ground, still wheezing.

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  • We hadn't been too concerned with the ruckus we'd been making but some people are not as tolerant of a neighborhood ruckus now and then. They think the best ruckus is no ruckus.

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  • But they are wrong. The best ruckus is a duck ruckus, and if you've ever heard one, you would know. For lo, though a duck may be infuriated, he always sounds comical, which enrages

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  • him further. Then what do you have? A duck amok. Feathers a flying. So be kind to your web-footed friends, and finish your Quacker Oats.

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