Tucker didn’t believe in aliens from outer space. He had more immediate and pressing concerns; like how to get rid of all the flies that invaded his house over summer. Each autumn would be spent with a squirt bottle of window cleaner in one hand and a rag in the other, clearing walls, windows, and cupboards of little black specks.
He didn’t like using chemical fly spray much. To be honest, he wasn’t a Greenie; he didn’t avoid fly spray because of environmental concerns. He avoided fly spray because he had a fish tank and life in an aquarium doesn’t appreciate lethal chemical weapons. The fish were safe.
But enough is enough! The day was hot and sticky. Tucker was cooking some corned beef to have cold with a salad in the sultry evening. Flies came from far and wide. Tucker grabbed an old can of fly spray and let the flies have it.
“That’ll teach you… you… you…” said Tucker.
The fish in the aquarium died. Its last words were, “I had told my boss back on the home planet that I didn’t want to be a fish.”