The Fly
Picture this: two ants, minding their own business on a sunny sidewalk, when suddenly—BAM—a colossal fly crash-lands right next to them. It's the size of a small boulder in their world, wings bent at weird angles, twitching feebly like a broken spaceship. The culprit? A human giant, towering overhead, swatting away like a demigod of destruction before casually walking off, completely unaware of the chaos they’ve left in their wake.
Now, to us, this is just Tuesday. But to these two ants? Oh, baby, this is an event.
Meet Tony. Tony’s the seasoned veteran of the ant trail. He’s seen it all—sugar spills, picnic crumbs, half-eaten sandwiches the size of his dreams. If there’s something edible, Tony’s already got a plan for it.
Next to him is Doug. Doug’s… well, Doug’s enthusiastic, but let’s just say he hasn’t exactly climbed the ranks of the colony with his brilliant ideas.
So, they stare at the unconscious fly, and Doug, eyes wide with excitement, exclaims, “Tony! Do you see what I see?! This is a gold mine! A treasure! We’ve hit the jackpot, baby!”
Tony gives him a side glance, antennae twitching in that way that says, Here we go again. “Doug, it’s a fly.”
“Not just any fly! This thing’s HUGE! We could feed the whole colony for weeks with this bad boy! Picture it: they’ll chant our names. We’ll be legends, Tony!”
Tony sighs. “Doug, it’s not even dead. Look, the thing’s still twitching. It’s risky.”
Doug’s eyes gleam with a wild spark of ambition. “Risky? Tony, we’re ants! Risk is our middle name! We dodge stomping giants on a daily basis! And you’re worried about one unconscious fly?”
“Doug, there’s a difference between dodging a sneaker and dragging a barely alive fly back to the colony. It’s gonna wake up, and when it does? We’re the ones getting dragged.”
But Doug’s on a roll now, pacing back and forth like a general on the verge of launching an epic campaign. “Look, we can’t let this opportunity pass us by! Imagine the queen’s reaction when we roll in with this prize! We’ll be promoted for sure! I’ll finally get that corner tunnel office!”
Tony raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You don’t even have an office. You collect crumbs.”
“Exactly! And this, my friend, is the crumb of all crumbs!”
Tony looks back at the fly. It’s not twitching as much now, which could either be a good sign or a very bad one. “Okay, genius. How exactly do you plan to move it? This thing’s five times our size.”
Doug puffs out his chest. “We’ll rally the troops. We’ll get Jerry, Stan, maybe even Phil. We’ll form a super team! The Avengers of ants! Ant-vengers, if you will.”
Tony winces. “Doug, you remember last time we tried to ‘rally the troops’? Jerry got distracted by a gum wrapper, Stan thought he found a shortcut and got lost in a shoe, and Phil… well, Phil’s still stuck in that jar of jelly from last week.”
Doug pauses. “Okay, so the team’s not perfect. But this is different! This is big! They’ll focus! They’ll see the vision!”
Tony rubs his forehead. “The only thing they’re gonna see is us getting launched into the stratosphere when this fly wakes up and freaks out.”
Doug waves him off. “Negative energy, man. You’ve got to think positive! We’ve got grit, we’ve got determination, and most importantly, we’ve got—”
At that moment, the fly gives a violent twitch, one of its legs jerking upward like a piston. Doug instantly freezes mid-speech.
“Uh… Tony?”
“Yeah, Doug?”
“The fly… it’s moving.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
The two ants stare as the fly twitches again, this time more aggressively. One wing flutters weakly, as if it’s gearing up for takeoff.
“Tony?”
“Yeah, Doug?”
“I think we should—”
“Run?”
“Yep!”
And with that, both ants take off at full speed, scrambling away from the waking giant fly, their dreams of glory forgotten in the face of survival. As they scurry to safety, Doug shouts over his shoulder, “Okay, maybe next time we stick to crumbs!”
Tony, sprinting beside him, chuckles. “Told you so, Doug. Told you so.”
And as they disappear into the cracks of the sidewalk, the fly, now fully awake, buzzes back into the air, blissfully unaware of the two tiny creatures who, for a brief moment, dared to dream big… and wisely decided to stay small.
Moral of the story: Sometimes it’s better to leave the giants to the giants—and stick to your crumb-sized victories!