infested fiction

'Take that, you little assholes," Ron Frownie said as he sprayed pesticide into the blue plastic grocery bag that was suspended from the handle on a cabinet and serving as temporary trash container. The recoil from spraying up close sent the cloud of flying bug spray back out of the bag and towards Ron's sour little face. He side stepped, as might Master Lee, if the Legend was fighting fruit flies. It was a war of spirit, Ron was certain. He then re-entered his fighting stance, and peeked into the bag. The few living insects walked in the slick of poison, defiant, injured, seeking fruit.

Racing for his cell phone, he called the CDC. "How long does flying bug spray work for,huh. Just tell me." he ordered, as if speaking to some lying traitor. The person on the other phone offered to refer his question to the executive director, when she gets in, sometime in the afternoon. She was in an important meeting, and would get back to him. "Well how the hell do I know when the next wave of fruit flies will hatch?" he screamed, the air in front of him lousy with tiny flying bugs.

Snapping the phone shut, he finished his eight cup of coffee, studying the grounds at the bottom of the dollar store ceramic mug. "Are those all coffee grounds, or have I been drinking the little bastards?" he thought. His world view was busy changing.

It was seeming to him that banana peals, apple cores and peach pits were the ambrosia in hell. They were the Masonic hand gestures. They were the scrawny sociopaths who sell smack to fund world terror. They were Jim Jones, drawing his followers to the Finito Cool Aid. Ron hatched a plan. "From here out, I'm throwing all my garbage out the window."

The mist of fruit flies jeered. "Won't work, Ron. There's a fat shitload more of us than there are of you."

"I'll quit eating fruit all together." Ron said with resolve.

"Then you'll get constipated, asshole," the flies replied. "You'll get colon cancer, shithead."

Fifteen minutes later Ron was back on the cell phone, "Can you at least tell what kind of diseases the fuckers carry? Anything worse than cancer?"