Love of the Flies

Maurice took a deep breath. This was going to be an important meeting; a crucial meeting. He knew that there would be many voices that would oppose him. They would try and say he was being sensationalist, finding an issue where there wasn't one.

That depended on one's point of view. There were always those that were prepared to let others be sacrificed for their own gain. As that thought hit him, his eyes rested on Harry. No. he needed to stay focused. This was not personal. It would benefit all of them. Anyone with half a brain could see that.

He entered the room. The place was buzzing, chatter incessant. Denise quickly brought the room to order, the buzzing dropping to a hum. She looked to Maurice, smiling. Nodding acknowledgement, he took to the stage. All eyes were on Maurice.

"Brethren, thank you for turning out in such impressive numbers. This is an issue that affects us all -" a smattering of disgruntled voices. Maurice ignored them, ploughing on; "- we cannot allow our reputation to continue to be besmirched like this! For too long, we have allowed, even enabled -" he looked over to Harry and his cronies.

"- our reputations to become tainted by baseless accusations and hearsay!" The energy of the room was rising. Maurice was satisfied, the meeting going well. A voice cut through the drone. It was Harry.

"What...what 'baseless' accusations do you mean? I'm a little...confused." The room fell silent, the attention, once again on Maurice, waiting for his reply. He could feel his anger rising, his blood boiling, a most unusual feeling.

"I, like many of us, feel that we are misrepresented in the media and generally in life -"

"How?" Harry interrupted, barely looking at him. Maurice was, momentarily, lost for words. Harry, revelling in the discomfort of his adversary, pounced.

"Isn't this just an issue for you...city folks?" Harry smirked. The room was buzzing again, worried murmurs fluttering around the room. Maurice bristled. He did not want to shout but was conscious of speaking just a little too loud as he replied.

"I...take your point. Those of us who live in more built-up areas are indeed more affected, but the wording used to describe us, all of us, is detrimental and misleading!"

"Nonsense!" Harry was dismissive. "It is the likes of you that cause us issues! We have no issue with them." Harry, surrounded by like-minded acolytes agreeing with him, looked smug.

No longer able to control his rage, Maurice was shouting, "We can't all live on a farm! Some of us have families, communities, in the city!" Denise tried to restore order as the room fizzed with buzzing.

"Can we quieten down, please? Please be quiet! I don't want to have to turn on the air conditioning!" The room quickly returned to a low hum. Denise indicated to Maurice to continue.

"Thank you, Denise. There are millions of us. Tens of millions; hundreds of millions! We should not have to suffer the indignity of slurs against us and our kind!" The energy in the room was back with him, grunts and mutters in agreement.

Harry was not going to back down. "We all eat well, don't we? It is not like anyone here has to live on the streets! What does it matter what they think of us?" The tide was turning again. Maurice needed to wrest back control.

"So, you think it's acceptable? The phrases attributed to us? The image portrayed of us? Seen as lazy and weak and dirty?!" An indignant Maurice demanded. Harry remained unperturbed by his anger.

"Bluster and baloney! Are we children? Wounded by a few words? I've never heard such rubbish!" On the stage, Maurice was quivering with fury.

"A few words? A few words?!" His feet came off the ground momentarily as he flapped furiously. Harry, relishing the moment, goaded him further.

"What words have gotten you so hurt? What do they say that has you in such a flutter?" he suppressed a smirk as Maurice's eyes bulged on stage.

"Have you never heard; 'dropping like flies' or 'no flies on me!' or 'like flies on shit.'?! Those sound like positive phrases to you?! They spray us! Swat us! Pull our wings off! We get no respect!" Maurice was almost screaming his words. The crowd got fired up by his passion.

Harry remained unmoved; "What do you suggest we do?" Before Maurice could answer, a voice pierced through the crowd: "Strike!" The idea quickly caught on, shouts of 'strike!' emanating from all over the room. Maurice desperately tried to quell the room.

"No, no! We can't strike! We can't strike!" He was drowned out by buzzing and a mob mentality.

"Strike! Strike! Strike!" The crowd was in full voice. Harry was chuckling at the chaos. On stage, both Maurice and Denise struggled to regain control.

"Please! Be quiet! This is not helping us! Please!" Denise pleaded to an obstinate room, the roar was getting louder. They were determined to strike. Harry could not resist another cheeky dig.

"If we do not strike, what should we do?" He challenged Maurice. The room quietened a little, the assembled curious enough to hear his answer.

"I...I think we should...write...a petition.." Maurice offered unconvincingly. The room fell silent.

"A petition?" Harry repeated incredulously. He let the words linger in the air for a moment, allowing the, in his opinion, ridiculous suggestion to fester. He began laughing. The crowd was animated once again. Maurice's notion of a petition gained little traction. They wanted to strike.

"Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike!" The crowd was becoming raucous. Maurice endeavoured to instil calm, trying to sell the petition option again. "Please! Listen to me! A petition would show them that we are serious! We need to be heard!" Harry was no longer laughing, showing outright contempt for Maurice's suggestion.

"Who do we send this 'petition' to?! Why would they read it? What would it say?! Also, have you thought about the fact that most of us cannot write?!" He sneered.

Desperate, Maurice looked to Denise for help. She shrugged her shoulders. He would try again.

"Friends -" Maurice's words were interrupted by something hitting him in the face. He wiped his face. It was shit. More came his way; they were throwing shit at him!

Denise exited the stage, wings up deflecting the incoming faeces. As the meeting descended into chaos, Arnold came frantically rushing in. "Someone's coming! Someone's coming! He's got a spade! And a bucket!" Panic spread quickly through the room, the flies dispersing erratically.

Rob opened the paddock and noted the large pile of horse dung. Scooping it up, he slopped it into the bucket. He waved a fly from his face. "Fucking flies! God, if reincarnation is a thing, I hope I don't come back as a fly! Who'd want to live in shit all day?!" The fly buzzed around his ear.

Maurice buzzed around the man angrily, screaming: "Pigs! Pigs love shit! We are at least eco-friendly!" Wandering happily around the paddock, Bella snorted, looking up at the sound of Maurice's shouting. "That hurt Mau, that cut deep." The pig said.

Maurice back-pedaled mortified at having offended his hog colleague, "my apologies Bella, I know you all are eco-friendly." The man left the paddock.

A crestfallen Maurice flew away, his rant falling on deaf ears. He was determined to push through with his petition.