The walk home took several weeks, and was fraught with peril. He used to buzz away from trouble, but now the evil-eyed cats and the smelly dogs had to be handled with more care. He had to be vigilant, and use some forethought. How could he avoid them while maintaining his direction? He relished the challenge.

In time he stood outside the house. He took a deep breath, swept his facets around for any sign of the animals, and ventured in. He ran up to the ceiling and made his way to the dining room. He couldn't wait to tell Aglow with Shit about stoicism (and he looked forward to more handshakes...). When he got close to the cabinet he saw the flies gathered for the morning meeting. There were many gasps as he walked down to the top of the cabinet.

"What have you done?!" cried the Elder.

They were all staring at him now. He backed up a few steps and started to explain the things he had discovered, but he stopped short when Aglow with Shit walked over to him with a frightened look on her face.

"I can explain, sugar," he said. "Be happy for me."

"I can't believe this," she said. She started sobbing. He reached out a hand. She backed up and snapped, "Don't touch me!" She buzzed her wings and lifted off.

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Everything went numb for Dines on Shit. It was like he wasn't there. "I love you!" he yelled. Aglow with Shit was already gone.

All the flies broke into excited shouting. He backed away unnoticed. He crawled down the cabinet and across the floor toward the kitchen. He knew he should have been on the ceiling, but he didn't care. He didn't care at all. There was a minor twinge of anger, too. They immediately thought he had removed his own wings, when he could have just as easily been the victim of a sadistic human. He crawled up the kitchen cabinets, guided by a vague thought of beer. He was in luck. A glass sat on the counter.

"Cleetus!" Yelled the woman of the house. Dines on Shit was startled half to death by the unexpected outburst. She was close. Very close.

"What?!" came Fatfuck's distant reply.

"Have you been pulling wings off of flies again?"

Dines on Shit looked up and saw the woman above him. Instinctively he buzzed his back muscles to get away, and panicked when nothing happened. He ran, scrambling on all six like never before. His facets picked up movement on the periphery. He looked back. The woman's arm made a big motion. Dear Shit on high, was that a fly swatter?

WHACK

Afterword

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events and incidents are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or flies, living or dead, or actual Shit, is purely coincidental. --AtP