Tony the fly is looking at slice of cake and a mountain of crumbs. It’s a succulent lemon drizzle cake with a strawberry at it’s side nestled on a plate itself lying on a window sill.
Tony had never seen anything so beautiful. His mouth waters. The Suns mid morning light bouncing off pond in the garden beyond the window creates a evangelical halo around the plate. The cake has become Tony’s God.
Tony looks around not believing his luck. It’s all his.
Like a bell Huey helicopter in a Vietnam war movie Tony takes off and banks up and along the edge of the plate so he can get a better view and plan his attack.
From his vantage the folds of treacle and soft moist cake are his paddy fields. His mouth is his m40 machine gun. His vomit Jimi Hendricks playing Woodstock.
He swings around for a final approach pulling his goggles over his eyes and accelerates down down into the sweet abyss of that wonderful diabetes momma with her plump legs open to his penetrating proboscis undaunted by this sudden switch in metaphors and ridiculous sentence structure.
Tony Slams into something invisible and drops to the window ledge spinning in pain inches away from the cake
He gets back up and tries again. Maybe I hit the plate, he thinks just before he slams against the invisible barrier.
What the hell?
He tries again.
TONY: F&CK!!!!! F&ck! F&ck! F&ck!
Ah well, Tony thinks. I might as well go back to trying to kill myself.
TODD(muffled): Itmph a mpmpfeilmpm
Standing next to the cake holding a piece of cake with a mouthful of cake wearing a hat and shoes made out of cake is Todd the Fly.
Furiously trying to finish his mouthful of cake Todd beckons Tony to approach. Cautiously Tony does so only to hit the invisible barrier. Only it’s not entirely invisible now he’s closer.
Cling-film. He sees the outline of his attempts at breaking through as sweaty rubber stamps of his comical self, Wil E. Coyote on canyon walls.
TONY: How did you get in?
TODD: I was sleeping off a hangover round by the icing and when I woke up and it was here.
TONY: Can you get out?
TODD: I don’t know.
TONY: Have you tried?
TONY: Why not?
TODD: Look around me. Cake? It’s real fucking good too. You like my shoes?
There seems to be music coming from within the cake. Like a door being opened and party noise leaking we hear giggling which seems to intensify.
TONY: Is there a party going on in there?
A drunken fly couple stumble out of the cake. The female fly waves at Tony before being led by her beefy partner into a corner were the the couple proceed to fuck. Flies don’t generally care about privacy and will fuck anywhere given a chance. They fuck hard and fast.
TONY: Can you get me in?
TODD: I don’t know. You were pretty mean to me the other day. Took me a while to work it out, but I’m pretty sure you were being an asshole.
The Fly fuckers swap positions. She’s doing him now.
TONY: I’m sorry Todd. I just needed some time alone. We talked about that. You remember that?
TODD: Not really. We’re flies Tony. We don’t do alone time.
The fly fuckers swap back.
TONY: Well I’m sorry anyway. But sometimes I just need to think.
TODD: Really. I find that’s quite possibly the worse thing a person can do. I mean look at you.
TONY: What do you mean?
The fly fucker shoots his load and immediately falls back dead. “Lady” fly Pulls her skirt down, straightens her leg hairs then proceeds to eat his face.
TODD: Oh forget it. Look You’re here now. And that’s what matters. Go round the back and talk with Patrick. Say you’re a friend of mine he’ll let you in. Just try not to look so damn miserable.
TONY: So you had a way out the whole time.
TODD: No just a way in.
TODD: Don’t over think it.