A Fly in my Cup.


So I was all relaxed, eating some french toast with real maple syrup, and drinking a cup of joe, when something solid hit my lips from inside my coffee cup as I was sipping another drink. I thought for a moment, “Peradventure, this must be a piece of french toast, what was adrift in my sea of hot lifer’s blood? Then again, perhaps not?  I must investigate this incongruity!” Aghast was I upon discovery of the truth! Verily, I declare it was the corpse of a recently deceased Musca domestica! (common house fly) There it was in all its horrible glory, taunting me posthumously from the lip of my John Wayne commemorative coffee cup! What did I do you might query? I did what any other man of my stature, and maturity would do. I leapt up with the grace and athleticism a man of my girth, and dexterity possesses, and ran flapping my arms to the bathroom sink, where I expediently flushed said fly coffee from my mouth, rinsed with copious amounts of Listerine, and prayed to God that the villan had not communicated to me any sundry diseases, curses, or maladies.

One thought on “A Fly in my Cup.

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