And Man prevails.

Dear fly,

I have the utmost respect for your impeccable flying manoeuvres, your uncanny ways of staying alive through the harshest of conditions and of course, your distinguished reputation for reproduction. I particularly find your offsprings, the maggot, cute and soothing to the eye. You might also be pleased to know that they have often been referred to by RSMs and Warrant officers, deemed as praise for deserving and diligent soldiers all over the army.

It might not have occurred to you, but the fact is, you need not have to die. Had you not buzz around my face every 15 seconds or so, irritating me in the process, you might not have driven me enough determination to send you to paradise. You only have yourself to blame for your demise, for you refuse to buzz off even after 4 foiled attempts on your life. I am able to empathise with your sorry situation, that it might be difficult for you to recognise danger with your limited brain processing power. However, I wish to emphasise that I have already put in paramount effort in warning you, using bright coloured newspapers when conducting my attack.

You have led a charmed life, being able to irritate one of the greatest humans on earth, and it so pains me to see you laying on the ground motionless after my 5th newspaper whack. Be assured, you will be granted a proper and the most honourable burial, in the toilet bowl, flushed to the sewage, where you will be guaranteed an endless supply of shit food in your afterlife.

Although you will not be missed, you will be remembered. Rest in peace, fly.

Your most worthy opponent,
Mr Victorious aka Man.


Ps. Attached is a picture of yourself, fallen from grace. It will be permanently displayed here, as a promised gesture of remembrance.