How dare you enter my abode! I shall turn

How dare you enter my abode! I shall turn you into a... let's see. hmm... Advocado? Yes... Advocado! I WILL TURN YOU INTO AN ADVOCADO!

As I overheard my grandma yelling, I took a peek outside. Some pesky insect had wandered into the garden, and my senile grandmother was shouting curses at a fly. Wow.

"Don't you know this is my garden?!" Grandma shouted, "Can't you just go and leave me alone!?". The fly blushed. "Can you even understand me?!" She asked the fly

is a desperate time for our people. We have been ... our numbers have been decreasing sharply. We are just trying to make our own way in the world." Grandma heard the fly out, and

before we knew it, we had become fly advocates. The fly expressed himself so eloquently we were swayed by his plea on behalf of his species. Our house was a fly sanctuary, and my

kitchen and dining room table was soon crawling with flies. "Every maggot is sacred" said the spokesfly who resided in our unplugged meat cooler. Soon we called him Lord of Flies

and said this in a manner feigning deep respect, which in fact was mocking, but the spokesfly was unbelievably vain and dense. The fly infestation worsened; finally, we developed a

weapon - a vacuum cleaner with edge tool. 100's of flies could be sucked up in minutes as they snoozed on the ceiling each evening. We didn't realize the semi-intelligent flies

we're actually meditating, not sleeping. Meditating, we learned later, on ways to escape entrapment behind miniblinds, the #1 cause of indoor death among flies in the world today.