FLY HUNTING?

They make 'em big in San Francisco.  That is not the "thought" for today.  It is rather concerning the task of swatting flies when you discover that there are too many of them in your house.  I was standing in the kitchen and there were altogether too many flies active for my taste.  So I reached out and took up the fly swatter and decided that I was going to wage war on them.  You all know what happened.  I no sooner had my weapon of choice ready to go when the flies all disappeared. So I decided to stand perfectly still in a position that I figured would fool them into coming back and landing in the line of fire.  I was standing by the kitchen sink, right next to the white stove.  I just knew that there would be some action soon.  Sure enough.  One landed right in front of me.  I swung, but I made the mistake of not swinging too hard so as not to squish the thing and cause a small puddle of blood and guts at the scene of the deed.  So, of course, the perp got away.  I had to change tactics.  There had to be a way.  Suddenly I got creative.  I got a paper towel, wet it somewhat and held it in my non-dominant hand.  You know, the one without the weapon.  Then, I resumed my position, ready to blast away and get it done with shock & awe and just wipe the results clean before doing the following one.  Then, of a sudden, one came into view, just over the sink.  It made the mistake of making one or two turns just over the basin.  I swung at it while it was in full aerobatic arrogance and BAM, got 'im.  Maybe it was a her, but all's fair in love and war.  Down into the basin.  Feet in the air, spasmic.  Turn the water on, click the garbage disposal unit on, swoosh, gone.  Yay.  Shut it all down and wait for the next one.  No sooner do I take my position, right arm cocked with my elbow bent at the correct angle when a brazen creature lands on the kitchen table off to my left.  I whirl around and in one smooth, swift action bring the weapon down on the invader and SSppaaalaat!
UGH!  EEEWWWe!  Gross!  Quick, wipe, wipe, squeeze a little bit.  Ahhh!  Clean.  Throw it away.  get another wet paper towel.  Got it.  Position.  Hey, where'd they all go?  I know that there are more of them.  Maybe if I put a dab of maple syrup out there that will help.  HHmmm.  That won't work,  The Voice from the Kitchen would raise Hell and put a prop under it if she ever found out.  "Do you know how much that costs?"  The sad part is I do know how much it costs and I doubt that it is worth the couple of flies that it would nab.  Then again, I could miss, too.  So, I just put out a used banana peel.  It worked.  I got two more.  I somehow knew that flies aren't really as smart as they try to make it look.  In order to make this story a little bit shorter, I have to say that I did get 9 or 10 and I am quite sure that there were none left after that.  Job well done.  No prisoners.  I feel like a Spanish Conquistador.  All told, I had a good time for about 20 minutes.  I'm glad that it doesn't happen too often, but for once, it sure as shooting was more fun than watching the San Diego Chargers.
Pretty gross thought, right?
620 words on fly hunting.  That's because I have not the slightest idea about fly fishing!