I am interrupting my household routine in order to share some kitchen techniques and methodologies I have a sense may be long-awaited by other homekeepers.
I have two rules when it comes to insects that have abandoned their native ecological niches in favor of my home’s interior. Number One: If you buzz within an inch of my ear, expect a truncated lifespan. Number Two: If you land in my kitchen, expect imminent and gruesome decease.
If you share my principles, you may appreciate my enforcement techniques as well.
I find it essential to possess a flyswatter. A flyswatter is a specialized tool. Flyswatters curve in the right place, and they are slotted to facilitate slicing the fly. Slicing ensures utter destruction and eliminates pesky revival of stun cases.
Many people advocate a deft wrist motion with a flyswatter, and indeed, for those with strong wrists, this may be satisfactory. But I find that a pronounced overhand smash works best. Properly executed, the overhand smash will neatly bifurcate your fly, sending approximately one half to the floor, and the other half to another surface which it may take you some time to discover. Be sure to check the walls and behind the toaster. With practice, your overhand smash will terminate in a smart sweeping motion at the end, that will remove all portions of the fly from the SOC (surface of contact), and dispatch them to the floor immediately beneath the POS (point of strike). This may be particularly desirable in cases where the fly is situated on, say, the spine of a book, or a banana.
Magazines and newspapers are primitive, chunky, and barbarous. If they’re lying around, chances are that this is because someone has not yet read them, and remnants of fly corpses may deter future interest in reading them — which could be a good thing, but not for your reputation as a homekeeper. Moreover, magazines and newspapers are not slotted to effect neat bifurcation. For this reason, I highly recommend investing the $1.19 or so in a proper flyswatter.
This is either the first or the last in a series of excerpts from the I-Hate-Flies Cookbook. Entries from other contributors will be considered without prejudice, but it is suggested that they contain colorful elements of exemplary gore, in addition to sound methodological explication.
This post is dedicated to Jane, just because she shares my life.