Steve Braunias does the secret diary of Billy Bigsteps.
So there I was, minding my own business, putting together a peace plan for the Middle East, when a fly landed on my desk.
I didn’t give it any thought at first. Flies have landed on the desks of great men since time began. And so I returned to the task at hand, which was to develop a cure for cancer.
But just as I was about to invent a robot that could drink water, the fly crawled across the keyboard of my laptop.
I waved a hand at it. It flew off. I congratulated myself on my mastery of the situation, and reached for the phone to call my press agent, when the fly landed on my screen.
I waved a hand at it. It flew off. It landed on my teacup.
I waved a hand at it. It flew off. It landed on my head.¬†
I waved a hand at it. I slapped myself in the face and dropped my phone in the teacup. Enraged, I swung wildly at the fly, but knocked over the cup, and it spilled tea on to the
keyboard. The fly landed on the window. I smashed it with the laptop. The glass broke, and so did the laptop.
The fly landed on the ceiling.
I looked at it.
It looked at me.
I knew in that instant what I was dealing with.
A spy fly.
“OK,” I said out loud, “spy on this!”
I took off my clothes, and pointed my bum at the ceiling.
I heard the fly make an alarmed buzzing sound, and it flew out the window at an amazing speed.