Would You Like Flies With That?

Twenty years ago Albert McCoy was a typical basement fly living out of his mother's basement at the prime of his life with no responsibilities. He was always in between jobs, most times unemployed, but he didn't care for he had way too much fun with his buddies while staying out all night drinking and getting laid. And of course sleeping all day.

But now Albert McCoy was a forty-three year old, hopeless, housefly, and according to his seventeen year old son, Eric, an uncool old bald crow, who worked twelve hours a day at the Nose Factory.

Now Albert may have thought he had it worse but he never stopped to think about his wife, Priscilla, or did he? Unlike her husband, Priscilla hardly ever got the joy to leave the house for anything other than chauffeuring or running to the store for she had way too much housework that needed tended and three children to maintain.

Priscilla was a fly who was always on the go. Twenty years ago she was a law intern, with Buzz & Associates Law Firm, with the intentions of making partner but things didn't go as she planned.

She started out as an apartment fly with the intentions of owning a house someday but this was not how she pictured it.

When she first got married, to Albert, she thought to herself how easy it all seemed. She had planned to keep her job and goal plans but when her eldest son, Eric, came along it started to go down hill. And then when Sarah and Andrew popped out everything just went down the drain and she was forced to quit her job.

It was just another ordinary morning in the McCoy household. Priscilla awoke before everyone else to make breakfast. Albert took his breakfast to go and left for work while his son, Eric, ate a hurried some breakfast and flew the coop to school.

Priscilla hurried the younger two along with their breakfast and out toward the waiting bus.

"But why can't we fly to?" demanded a fifteen year old Sarah.

"Because you are too young," answered an impatient Priscilla.

"But dad and Eric flies," whined Sarah.

"Just Go!" cried Priscilla as she threw the fifteen and ten year old on the bus. Man she hated her life. Sometimes she thought about running away.

Meanwhile Albert McCoy's cousin, Johnny the BoxFly has been living in a cardboard box every since his parents, the houseflies, kicked him out when he turned eighteen. Which was exactly seven years ago. Johnny has always been a lousy, clumsy, typical drunk. He has been evicted from fifty-six apartments and fired from seventy-two jobs.

And that was how he ended up living out of a cardboard box in an alley behind Beatle Joe's Tavern, also referred to as BJ's.

This particular night Johnny was to be found crawling back to his box after being tossed out of BJ's for not having any money to pay his tab.

Johnny stumbled over to an empty beer can and tried to stuck out any drops of beer left. Upon not finding one single drop he then tried to inhale the aroma.

He then went through another garbage can for more beer cans.

"Hey! What are you doing?" called a voice from the ground.

Flying on to the rim of the garbage can he saw Benny the Orange Tabby cat.

"Ge-Get out o-of he-here you d-d-dumb k-k-kitty," stuttered Johnny.

"Stuttering drunk," mumbled Benny the tabby.

"C-come an-and f-fight me like a t-tom," challenged Johnny.

"It's wrong to fight a drunk fly," said Benny the tabby. "So go sober up and come back and challenge me again."

"He-here k-k-kitty," cried Johnny, balling up his fists and stumbling toward the cat.

Gulp! Johnny go bye bye!