As the ape-like titan obliviously lumbered towards Dog Turd Mountain, a cloud of flies rose warily into the air to avoid being crushed under his heel.
"I love the smell of shit in the morning!" cried Buzzy, as he darted joyfully through the airborne traffic... but not everyone shared his high spirits. Cranky and irritable and late for work; the flies he bumped into were less than amused.
"Ow!" a young fly yelped.
"Watch it" yelled another.
"Watch where you're going, asshole!" growled a third, menacingly.
"Where's the fire?" screamed a passing moth, who seemed lost and confused and may have genuinely been asking for directions.
But Buzzy didn't care... he knew they'd have been a lot more respectful if they'd known who he was.
His was a classic rags to riches story; from humble beginnings in a stagnant pond he'd had to share with millions of other creatures, to his own feeding spot on a dog turd to which he'd managed to be the first in line. As the adventurous explorer who'd discovered that plentiful bounty, he was entitled to the best feeding spots; the respect of all the other inhabitants of their small community; and his pick of any of the female flies who'd reached sexual maturity. Sure, he had loftier ambitions than spending his whole life crawling on a dog turd, but that didn't mean he shouldn't enjoy what perks he had for now; he'd certainly had to work hard for them...
And just like that; his wistfulness took him back days to his early childhood, now much less bitter in his eyes as he peered at it through the rose-tinted glasses of nostalgia; from his disastrous stinging lessons taught by Mr. Yellowjacket the bee, who'd asked him every class in a voice thick with contempt if there was maybe something else he would rather be doing with his life; to his pitiful attempts at floating like professor Butterfly, who was flamboyantly gay and favored the passive aggressive approach of pretending like Buzzy wasn't there; even to his failed efforts at blood-sucking school, where he was tutored by none other than the renowned and widely feared Count Mosqula, who'd famously shed a single tear from his only eye and retired in shame... for he had never before failed to turn a student into an annoying, late-night nightmare for their mortal enemy; the dreaded human.
Buzzy neither had enough aggression nor physical strength to join the hornets -nor indeed was he any good at stinging; he was not gifted with the sheer survivability or resourcefulness of the cockroach; and he didn't work well in teams, so that ruled out the ants as well as the bees -though he'd never had much luck with the latter, in any case. He wasn't loud enough for the crickets; nor was he hungry enough for the locusts; nor was he musically gifted enough for the beatles.
Everywhere he went, he was laughed at and humiliated, and the kids were the worst; the polite ones called him a maggot -which was technically a racial slur- and I'll let you figure out what the impolite ones called him (hint: it starts with an "F"). When he tried to join wasp school, he was bullied and beaten to within one tenth of an inch of his life... although to be fair, wasps were technically one of his main predators; but Buzzy wasn't exactly the sharpest insect in the picnic basket... which he proved only a day later by applying to spider school.
Tired of being called a stupid, useless insect who'd never amount to anything, and angry at an uncaring world, which created him talentless and unimpressive, Buzzy gave up on having a career and left the pond; favoring the nomad lifestyle that only a young, unattached fly can have... he flew aimlessly in whatever direction offered a stronger stench; searching for something he didn't know... was it food? A mate? Or was it himself?
One day, after days of hard work and perseverance, lady luck smiled down upon him and he chanced to stumble upon a squatting dog... and the rest, as they say, is history. Presently, Buzzy allowed himself a satisfied smile; for he had finally found his calling in that beautiful pile of fecal matter.
He had found success, despite all the nay-sayers.
He had proved them all wrong...
He had finally made it.
One day, after days of hard work and perseverance, lady luck smiled down upon him and he chanced to stumble upon a squatting dog... and the rest, as they say, is history. Presently, Buzzy allowed himself a satisfied smile; for he had finally found his calling in that beautiful pile of fecal matter.
He had found success, despite all the nay-sayers.
He had proved them all wrong...
He had finally made it.
But you know what they say about tempting fate...
Don't do it.
"I MADE IT!" cried Buzzy, tempting fate.
Thoroughly tempted, fate responded in the form of what seemed like a massive metal box, hurtling towards Dog Turd mountain at an impossible speed. The loud rumbling noise it made awakened Buzzy from his reverie, and he just barely had enough time to dive out of the way before he heard a sickening squelch. Hardly daring to look; he slowly turned towards Dog Turd Mountain... then his stomach lurched and he tearfully turned away again.
Dog Turd Mountain was now Dog Turd Pancake.
Before he'd had time to think, he suddenly found himself hot on the metal box's tail, boiling with rage. He would have his revenge somehow.
After a few seconds of sustained flight at top speed, pushing himself harder and harder all the while, Buzzy began to grow tired... although it seemed to him that he was starting to gain on the strange metal box. He doubled his efforts and tried to ignore the growing pain in his flight muscles. Yes, he could definitely see it now; he was inching closer to the box... which, counter-intuitively, seemed to be slowing down! Could it not feel his approach? Was it not terrified and trembling in fear of Buzzy's wrath? The box's arrogance angered him even more, and he swore red vengeance on the poor soul who dared deprive him of his pri- SPLAT!
The box had abruptly come to a complete standstill, and the momentum of his headlong charge had carried Buzzy into some kind of transparent force field. Intrigued, he flew into it again. And again. And again... with each painful bump teaching him absolutely nothing.
"Ow!" He exclaimed.
"Ow..." He thought.
"Ow?" He wondered.
"Ow." He concluded.
"Ow..." He confirmed.
Amazingly, it seemed like the force field had weathered his insistent battering. After slamming himself into it a few more times for good measure, Buzzy decided to back away and reassess the situation. Spiraling higher and higher and higher into the heavens; he started turning in wider circles to orbit the box and look for any weak spots... but his aerial reconnaissance yielded very little results. The box looked completely solid to him, and there seemed to be no chinks in its impressive armor to offer a kamikaze fly any advantages.
As if on cue, an unnatural hum emanated from the box... quickly followed by the emergence of what looked like a humongous appendage, wrapped in some kind of black fabric... it must have been very powerful indeed, to have been able to punch through the force field with such ease. The appendage ended with a flat surface, from which protruded five smaller, stubby appendages holding a thin, white burning torch of some description.
He gasped as the realization dawned on him...
It was a human arm.
Buzzy was absolutely shocked... what was the human doing inside the box? If the box was strong enough to swallow a human, what would it do to a fly that couldn't even sting?
Then Buzzy began to think. It was slow and painful, but he persisted;
the box had come to a complete stop, and the human had apparently punched through its surface... was that a struggle? Was the human attempting an escape? That put Buzzy in a very unusual situation; on the one hand, the box had destroyed his world and everything he'd held dear, and Buzzy had sworn to exact his vengeance even if took him days to do so; but on the other hand, what was he supposed to do? Help a human? The mere thought made him shiver in disgust.
Buzzy had to think again. He thought for what seemed like hours, but was realistically closer to 3 seconds -which in all fairness was already more thinking than he'd ever done in his life. At length, he made his decision to attack the box. If the human could punch through it, then perhaps he could deal some damage too.
With a deafening war cry, Buzzy dove towards the force field on the side of the box; feeling gravity's pull accelerate him faster than anything his feeble wings could ever hope to manage. He'd chosen a steep, almost vertical angle of attack to maximize his speed (if there was one thing a fly knew better than anyone, it was flying) and at the last possible second before he hit the human's arm, he swerved right with the full force of his inertia and hurtled into the force field. He winced and mentally braced himself for impact... if he'd had eyelids, he would have closed them.
But nothing happened.
Too fast to stop now, he shot forward like a bullet into the human's face. The human swatted him away irritably with his left arm, which was still holding the white burning torch. Strangely, the torch seemed to have got significantly shorter. As Buzzy pulled away from the human, he noticed that he was pressing a rectangular object into the right side of his face and seemed to be producing even more noise than his kind were wont to produce. More curiously still, he was waving his left arm animatedly to punctuate the tiny lulls in his mysterious chant. The human seemed to be angry or in distress, but it likely wasn't caused by the box. In fact, the box seemed to remain perfectly still. Had the human won the battle? That was bad. That was very very bad.
His blind rage subsiding, Buzzy was starting to realize what a terrible situation he'd put himself in; he was now inside the belly of the beast- which in all likelihood was dead, but also inorganic so Buzzy couldn't even feed on it- and he was in very close proximity to an agitated human. He decided to make his escape... it was not his fight, and he had got his revenge, in any case; somehow, the beast was dead.
He made a beeline for the force field to escape the beast's insides, mentally chuckling at the excellent insect pun he'd just made. He was inches away from freedom when the human withdrew his arm inside the box -minus the white burning torch, which was mysteriously missing- and suddenly, without warning, the beast awoke with raucous roar. Concurrently, the ominous hum from before was back, again. It filled Buzzy with irrational fear and dread, and he pumped his wings frantically to escape before the beast had fully awoken. He was close enough to feel a fresh gust of air wafting through the force field... any second now, Buzzy would break free and fly far away from this monstrosity, his lesson well and truly learned.
But as always, the force field continued to vex him. He could not break through it this time. What's worse; the beast had begun moving again. Buzzy redoubled his efforts to break through the force field, ramming it as hard as he could.
"Ow!" He exclaimed.
"Ow!" He exclaimed.
"Ow!" He exclaimed.
"Ow!" He exclaimed.
"Ow!" He exclaimed.
But it was no use... it remained defiantly solid; teasing him with its transparency. Turning around, he saw a much larger exit in front of him, but his attempts to break through it yielded the same results. He was definitely in deep trouble now... backing away, he flew around the beast's insides, keeping as far away from the human as possible to avoid further agitating him, but his every attempt at escape utterly failed. Every time he thought he'd discovered a way out, it turned out to be protected by the same black magic that had already foiled all his previous plans.
A POX ON THE BEAST'S VILE SORCERY!
The beast was going much faster now; it was all he could do to keep up with its speed. After a few seconds of panicked flight, Buzzy was completely worn out; the fight completely drained from him. Giving in to his fate, he found a tight corner where he would be as safe as possible from the human's wrath, and slumped in defeat.
After a few minutes of relative silence, the human was at it again; once more, he pressed the rectangular object to his ear, and began roaring with rage -thick droplets of spittle flying from his massive maw to splatter against the force field- all the while waving his arms spiritedly.
The same arms that had broken through the force field...
That gave Buzzy an idea. He wasn't strong enough to break through the field, but the human certainly was!
Bravely bracing himself for what he knew was coming, Buzzy lifted himself out of his corner; his tired wings barely carrying him as he climbed higher and higher into the air until he drew level with the human's eyes... and with another war cry, he launched himself with all his power towards the human.
As expected, the human's massive left arm came swatting at him, but he deftly avoided it and flew into his eye. Irritated, the human tried to swat him away faster this time, but he dodged it and rammed him again. This pattern repeated itself for a few seconds, with the human angrily waving Buzzy away and Buzzy taking no heed and attacking him relentlessly. It seemed to be working! The human was roaring louder than ever; with each failed attempt at killing Buzzy seeming to make him even angrier. Buzzy now flew towards the force field on the side and began attacking it, instead. The human would try to flatten him against the force field; but Buzzy would dive out of the way at the last second, and the human would instead punch through it, allowing Buzzy to finally escape his nightmare.
At least, that was the plan.
What actually happened was much stranger... for suddenly, the eerie hum was back again, and the force field he was standing on seemed to be moving; pulled down by some invisible, ungodly force. Buzzy jumped into the air in order to avoid being pulled down with it, but before he knew it, an irresistible, unimaginably strong gust of wind had grabbed hold of him, completely overpowering him and throwing him outside. Buzzy tumbled in the air, with absolutely no idea which way was up; it was all he could do to stay airborne. Dizzy and confused and more tired than he'd ever been, Buzzy allowed himself a few seconds of hovering until he caught his breath and got his bearings... and what he he saw then almost made him faint, right then and there.
There were literally hundreds of metal beasts similar to the one he'd barely just escaped from, as far as his eyes could see; all of them dashing by at break-neck speeds... he seemed to have unwittingly stumbled upon their lair.
Terrified and wanting to put as much distance between him and the beasts as possible, he climbed as high up in the air as he could, and then looked down again to formulate a plan.
The beasts seemed to be running on a flat surface in two directions, and as luck would have it, he was right in the middle of it. His only course of action was therefore to fly to the left or right; as he could see no other ends to the mysterious flat surface. He decided to follow an intriguing smell to his left; and began the long process of crossing the road.
Never before had Buzzy related more to the poor chicken who had simply wanted to get to the other side, to everyone's derision.
After what seemed like days of continuous flight, Buzzy finally reached the other side. Lush with vegetation and full of life, he seemed to have made the right choice; there would definitely be plenty of opportunities there.
Except that there was metal beast here as well; albeit at a complete standstill. Well, not technically at a complete standstill; it seemed to be rocking at a steady rhythm.
Buzzy was tired and hungry and afraid, but his curiosity got the better of him. Assuring himself that curiosity had never killed a fly, he cautiously approached the beast. Strangely, pained moaning sounds seemed to be emanating from it. Stranger and stranger still... perhaps the beast was writhing in pain. Was it dying? That would offer him a rare chance to take a closer look at the inner workings of that behemoth.
He managed to break through the force field without much incident, this time... but what he saw next gave him pause; there were two humans lying there, one on top of the other, unclad in the usual fabrics that humans covered themselves with for reasons that completely eluded him. The human on top was vigorously pumping away at the other human, who was obviously the female and the source of the noise he'd heard. Buzzy was old enough to know about the birds and the bees; but he also knew that sex was supposed to be enjoyable... why, then, did the humans choose the carcass of a metal beast as the setting for their coupling? Was it somehow enjoyable for them? And more importantly, why was the female moaning in pain? Absurdly -and even though they were both obnoxious, hated humans- Buzzy felt a moral obligation to help the distressed female.
Mustering his courage and summoning all his strength, he flew into the male's jaw... but the human made no response; so intent was he on his pleasure that he barely seemed to register Buzzy's challenge. Angered by that, he decided to teach him a lesson, and he flew into his eye this time. It had the intended effect; the human's hand lashed out at him, but he darted out of the way at the last second, causing the human to slap his own forehead. Undeterred, he flew into his other eye. The human yelped in pain and waved his arms blindly, hoping to catch Buzzy with his flailing limb... but Buzzy was too fast, and he buzzed into his ear now; causing the human to shake his head irritably.
Amazingly, the male's hips still rose and fell, barely breaking their rhythm... Buzzy had to admit to being impressed by his form and perseverance. He landed on the female's stomach and gazed up at the male, trying to look for other weak spots... but he never expected to be stabbed in the back by the very person he'd been trying to protect. Luckily for Buzzy, millions of years of evolution had protected him against exactly this eventuality, as his mirrored eyes caught sight of her hand just in time for him to barely avoid a fatal blow- but her hand still caught him in mid-air, disorienting him yet wounding nothing but his pride.
Buzzy tried not to hold it against her; she was visibly in distress and it was possible that she'd lashed out at him by mistake. He decided to help her again, but before he could fly back to the male to start harassing him, the female had already swatted him away yet again- this time coming dangerously close to crushing him against the beast's leather interior.
"Ow! I'm trying to help, you stupid bitch!"
But now both the male and female seemed to have turned on him, and Buzzy decided to make his exit. Feeling betrayed and confused by the sudden onslaught from the female who seemed to actually enjoy being in pain, Buzzy flew out of the deactivated force field, vowing never to help another human again.
It was getting dark now, and Buzzy was more tired than he'd ever been in his life. He was completely lost, with no chance of finding his way back to his most prized possession... but even if he did, what would he have gained? Nothing. The laws of fly real-estate were very strict, and fly lawyers -mostly blood-sucking tsetse flies; as one would expect of a lawyer- thrive on these kinds of contract loopholes; once Dog Turd Mountain had ceased to be Dog Turd "Mountain", Buzzy no longer had any legal claim to it and could rightfully be challenged for the mayorship rights. At best, he would have an average feeding spot amidst the hundreds of other flies, and at worst, he wouldn't even have that -a likely prospect, because Dog Turd Pancake would have a lower surface area. Bottom line is that he was completely broke now; cruelly knocked back to square one by fate, yet again.
Apart from the prestige and riches and sheer unlimited potential offered by the dog turd, Buzzy suddenly realized that he'd never see any of his old friends again. Scarier still, he had no way of knowing whether or not they'd survived the metal beast's charge; for all he knew, they could have been flattened, too. The thought gave him chills... he didn't know what to do, or where to go next. He was completely lonely and alone, and the world seemed overwhelmingly evil and cold to him. All he wanted to do was just go to sleep for a very long time.
After a few more minutes of aimless flight, Buzzy was just about to land on the underside of a tree branch to rest when he glimpsed a sleeping stray dog, lying on his back. Mindful of the goldmine shat out by the last dog he'd seen, Buzzy flew to the dog and landed on his abdomen. The dog made no attempt to shoo him off, preferring to just sleep there and smell delicious.
Wait, what?
Buzzy sniffed... yes, he definitely smelled it! He could recognize the beautiful rotten stench anywhere... the dog was definitely in its final death throes; but more importantly, he was the first fly to land on him.
Jackpot.
In human terms, he had just made a fortune of Scrooge McDuckian proportions. He was set for life, along with his family for generations to come.
As the first gold-digging (or grave-digging?) females showed up, flirtatiously rubbing their front legs together; their wings fluttering suggestively with a distinctive, seductive buzz, Buzzy started looking around for a tsetse fly to help him draw up the contract.
This one would have to be airtight.
The box had abruptly come to a complete standstill, and the momentum of his headlong charge had carried Buzzy into some kind of transparent force field. Intrigued, he flew into it again. And again. And again... with each painful bump teaching him absolutely nothing.
"Ow!" He exclaimed.
"Ow..." He thought.
"Ow?" He wondered.
"Ow." He concluded.
"Ow..." He confirmed.
Amazingly, it seemed like the force field had weathered his insistent battering. After slamming himself into it a few more times for good measure, Buzzy decided to back away and reassess the situation. Spiraling higher and higher and higher into the heavens; he started turning in wider circles to orbit the box and look for any weak spots... but his aerial reconnaissance yielded very little results. The box looked completely solid to him, and there seemed to be no chinks in its impressive armor to offer a kamikaze fly any advantages.
As if on cue, an unnatural hum emanated from the box... quickly followed by the emergence of what looked like a humongous appendage, wrapped in some kind of black fabric... it must have been very powerful indeed, to have been able to punch through the force field with such ease. The appendage ended with a flat surface, from which protruded five smaller, stubby appendages holding a thin, white burning torch of some description.
He gasped as the realization dawned on him...
It was a human arm.
Buzzy was absolutely shocked... what was the human doing inside the box? If the box was strong enough to swallow a human, what would it do to a fly that couldn't even sting?
Then Buzzy began to think. It was slow and painful, but he persisted;
the box had come to a complete stop, and the human had apparently punched through its surface... was that a struggle? Was the human attempting an escape? That put Buzzy in a very unusual situation; on the one hand, the box had destroyed his world and everything he'd held dear, and Buzzy had sworn to exact his vengeance even if took him days to do so; but on the other hand, what was he supposed to do? Help a human? The mere thought made him shiver in disgust.
Buzzy had to think again. He thought for what seemed like hours, but was realistically closer to 3 seconds -which in all fairness was already more thinking than he'd ever done in his life. At length, he made his decision to attack the box. If the human could punch through it, then perhaps he could deal some damage too.
With a deafening war cry, Buzzy dove towards the force field on the side of the box; feeling gravity's pull accelerate him faster than anything his feeble wings could ever hope to manage. He'd chosen a steep, almost vertical angle of attack to maximize his speed (if there was one thing a fly knew better than anyone, it was flying) and at the last possible second before he hit the human's arm, he swerved right with the full force of his inertia and hurtled into the force field. He winced and mentally braced himself for impact... if he'd had eyelids, he would have closed them.
But nothing happened.
Too fast to stop now, he shot forward like a bullet into the human's face. The human swatted him away irritably with his left arm, which was still holding the white burning torch. Strangely, the torch seemed to have got significantly shorter. As Buzzy pulled away from the human, he noticed that he was pressing a rectangular object into the right side of his face and seemed to be producing even more noise than his kind were wont to produce. More curiously still, he was waving his left arm animatedly to punctuate the tiny lulls in his mysterious chant. The human seemed to be angry or in distress, but it likely wasn't caused by the box. In fact, the box seemed to remain perfectly still. Had the human won the battle? That was bad. That was very very bad.
His blind rage subsiding, Buzzy was starting to realize what a terrible situation he'd put himself in; he was now inside the belly of the beast- which in all likelihood was dead, but also inorganic so Buzzy couldn't even feed on it- and he was in very close proximity to an agitated human. He decided to make his escape... it was not his fight, and he had got his revenge, in any case; somehow, the beast was dead.
He made a beeline for the force field to escape the beast's insides, mentally chuckling at the excellent insect pun he'd just made. He was inches away from freedom when the human withdrew his arm inside the box -minus the white burning torch, which was mysteriously missing- and suddenly, without warning, the beast awoke with raucous roar. Concurrently, the ominous hum from before was back, again. It filled Buzzy with irrational fear and dread, and he pumped his wings frantically to escape before the beast had fully awoken. He was close enough to feel a fresh gust of air wafting through the force field... any second now, Buzzy would break free and fly far away from this monstrosity, his lesson well and truly learned.
But as always, the force field continued to vex him. He could not break through it this time. What's worse; the beast had begun moving again. Buzzy redoubled his efforts to break through the force field, ramming it as hard as he could.
"Ow!" He exclaimed.
"Ow!" He exclaimed.
"Ow!" He exclaimed.
"Ow!" He exclaimed.
"Ow!" He exclaimed.
But it was no use... it remained defiantly solid; teasing him with its transparency. Turning around, he saw a much larger exit in front of him, but his attempts to break through it yielded the same results. He was definitely in deep trouble now... backing away, he flew around the beast's insides, keeping as far away from the human as possible to avoid further agitating him, but his every attempt at escape utterly failed. Every time he thought he'd discovered a way out, it turned out to be protected by the same black magic that had already foiled all his previous plans.
A POX ON THE BEAST'S VILE SORCERY!
The beast was going much faster now; it was all he could do to keep up with its speed. After a few seconds of panicked flight, Buzzy was completely worn out; the fight completely drained from him. Giving in to his fate, he found a tight corner where he would be as safe as possible from the human's wrath, and slumped in defeat.
After a few minutes of relative silence, the human was at it again; once more, he pressed the rectangular object to his ear, and began roaring with rage -thick droplets of spittle flying from his massive maw to splatter against the force field- all the while waving his arms spiritedly.
The same arms that had broken through the force field...
That gave Buzzy an idea. He wasn't strong enough to break through the field, but the human certainly was!
Bravely bracing himself for what he knew was coming, Buzzy lifted himself out of his corner; his tired wings barely carrying him as he climbed higher and higher into the air until he drew level with the human's eyes... and with another war cry, he launched himself with all his power towards the human.
As expected, the human's massive left arm came swatting at him, but he deftly avoided it and flew into his eye. Irritated, the human tried to swat him away faster this time, but he dodged it and rammed him again. This pattern repeated itself for a few seconds, with the human angrily waving Buzzy away and Buzzy taking no heed and attacking him relentlessly. It seemed to be working! The human was roaring louder than ever; with each failed attempt at killing Buzzy seeming to make him even angrier. Buzzy now flew towards the force field on the side and began attacking it, instead. The human would try to flatten him against the force field; but Buzzy would dive out of the way at the last second, and the human would instead punch through it, allowing Buzzy to finally escape his nightmare.
At least, that was the plan.
What actually happened was much stranger... for suddenly, the eerie hum was back again, and the force field he was standing on seemed to be moving; pulled down by some invisible, ungodly force. Buzzy jumped into the air in order to avoid being pulled down with it, but before he knew it, an irresistible, unimaginably strong gust of wind had grabbed hold of him, completely overpowering him and throwing him outside. Buzzy tumbled in the air, with absolutely no idea which way was up; it was all he could do to stay airborne. Dizzy and confused and more tired than he'd ever been, Buzzy allowed himself a few seconds of hovering until he caught his breath and got his bearings... and what he he saw then almost made him faint, right then and there.
There were literally hundreds of metal beasts similar to the one he'd barely just escaped from, as far as his eyes could see; all of them dashing by at break-neck speeds... he seemed to have unwittingly stumbled upon their lair.
Terrified and wanting to put as much distance between him and the beasts as possible, he climbed as high up in the air as he could, and then looked down again to formulate a plan.
The beasts seemed to be running on a flat surface in two directions, and as luck would have it, he was right in the middle of it. His only course of action was therefore to fly to the left or right; as he could see no other ends to the mysterious flat surface. He decided to follow an intriguing smell to his left; and began the long process of crossing the road.
Never before had Buzzy related more to the poor chicken who had simply wanted to get to the other side, to everyone's derision.
After what seemed like days of continuous flight, Buzzy finally reached the other side. Lush with vegetation and full of life, he seemed to have made the right choice; there would definitely be plenty of opportunities there.
Except that there was metal beast here as well; albeit at a complete standstill. Well, not technically at a complete standstill; it seemed to be rocking at a steady rhythm.
Buzzy was tired and hungry and afraid, but his curiosity got the better of him. Assuring himself that curiosity had never killed a fly, he cautiously approached the beast. Strangely, pained moaning sounds seemed to be emanating from it. Stranger and stranger still... perhaps the beast was writhing in pain. Was it dying? That would offer him a rare chance to take a closer look at the inner workings of that behemoth.
He managed to break through the force field without much incident, this time... but what he saw next gave him pause; there were two humans lying there, one on top of the other, unclad in the usual fabrics that humans covered themselves with for reasons that completely eluded him. The human on top was vigorously pumping away at the other human, who was obviously the female and the source of the noise he'd heard. Buzzy was old enough to know about the birds and the bees; but he also knew that sex was supposed to be enjoyable... why, then, did the humans choose the carcass of a metal beast as the setting for their coupling? Was it somehow enjoyable for them? And more importantly, why was the female moaning in pain? Absurdly -and even though they were both obnoxious, hated humans- Buzzy felt a moral obligation to help the distressed female.
Mustering his courage and summoning all his strength, he flew into the male's jaw... but the human made no response; so intent was he on his pleasure that he barely seemed to register Buzzy's challenge. Angered by that, he decided to teach him a lesson, and he flew into his eye this time. It had the intended effect; the human's hand lashed out at him, but he darted out of the way at the last second, causing the human to slap his own forehead. Undeterred, he flew into his other eye. The human yelped in pain and waved his arms blindly, hoping to catch Buzzy with his flailing limb... but Buzzy was too fast, and he buzzed into his ear now; causing the human to shake his head irritably.
Amazingly, the male's hips still rose and fell, barely breaking their rhythm... Buzzy had to admit to being impressed by his form and perseverance. He landed on the female's stomach and gazed up at the male, trying to look for other weak spots... but he never expected to be stabbed in the back by the very person he'd been trying to protect. Luckily for Buzzy, millions of years of evolution had protected him against exactly this eventuality, as his mirrored eyes caught sight of her hand just in time for him to barely avoid a fatal blow- but her hand still caught him in mid-air, disorienting him yet wounding nothing but his pride.
Buzzy tried not to hold it against her; she was visibly in distress and it was possible that she'd lashed out at him by mistake. He decided to help her again, but before he could fly back to the male to start harassing him, the female had already swatted him away yet again- this time coming dangerously close to crushing him against the beast's leather interior.
"Ow! I'm trying to help, you stupid bitch!"
But now both the male and female seemed to have turned on him, and Buzzy decided to make his exit. Feeling betrayed and confused by the sudden onslaught from the female who seemed to actually enjoy being in pain, Buzzy flew out of the deactivated force field, vowing never to help another human again.
It was getting dark now, and Buzzy was more tired than he'd ever been in his life. He was completely lost, with no chance of finding his way back to his most prized possession... but even if he did, what would he have gained? Nothing. The laws of fly real-estate were very strict, and fly lawyers -mostly blood-sucking tsetse flies; as one would expect of a lawyer- thrive on these kinds of contract loopholes; once Dog Turd Mountain had ceased to be Dog Turd "Mountain", Buzzy no longer had any legal claim to it and could rightfully be challenged for the mayorship rights. At best, he would have an average feeding spot amidst the hundreds of other flies, and at worst, he wouldn't even have that -a likely prospect, because Dog Turd Pancake would have a lower surface area. Bottom line is that he was completely broke now; cruelly knocked back to square one by fate, yet again.
Apart from the prestige and riches and sheer unlimited potential offered by the dog turd, Buzzy suddenly realized that he'd never see any of his old friends again. Scarier still, he had no way of knowing whether or not they'd survived the metal beast's charge; for all he knew, they could have been flattened, too. The thought gave him chills... he didn't know what to do, or where to go next. He was completely lonely and alone, and the world seemed overwhelmingly evil and cold to him. All he wanted to do was just go to sleep for a very long time.
After a few more minutes of aimless flight, Buzzy was just about to land on the underside of a tree branch to rest when he glimpsed a sleeping stray dog, lying on his back. Mindful of the goldmine shat out by the last dog he'd seen, Buzzy flew to the dog and landed on his abdomen. The dog made no attempt to shoo him off, preferring to just sleep there and smell delicious.
Wait, what?
Buzzy sniffed... yes, he definitely smelled it! He could recognize the beautiful rotten stench anywhere... the dog was definitely in its final death throes; but more importantly, he was the first fly to land on him.
Jackpot.
In human terms, he had just made a fortune of Scrooge McDuckian proportions. He was set for life, along with his family for generations to come.
As the first gold-digging (or grave-digging?) females showed up, flirtatiously rubbing their front legs together; their wings fluttering suggestively with a distinctive, seductive buzz, Buzzy started looking around for a tsetse fly to help him draw up the contract.
This one would have to be airtight.
