Dear pesky fruit flies,
I believe it is not your intention to live in my house, use my air conditioning, drink my water, and so on – you just want to indulge in my overly-ripe fruit, afterall you are a fruit fly. I get that.
However, I find this arrangement to be rather problematic because I, too, want to eat my fruit – without you and your friends swarming around my head or billowing out of my peeled banana. It’s just gross and not so very appetizing.
I could be on board if it were just you and a few friends, but you tend to multiply. Like rabbits. Herds of frisky rabbits.
And frankly, I’ve had enough of you and your shenanigans and you’ve left me no choice.
Very soon you will smell the sweet aroma of an overly-ripe strawberry. You will be so overcome with the desire to have this scrumptioulescent berry that you will plummet into the funnel of doom, trapped inside my recycled bottle where you will live out your final days (are fly days like dog years?)…
I’m very sorry to end our relationship like this – it just wasn’t working for me anymore.