Drosophila Melanogaster: Those pesky, annoying little fruit flies that replicate faster than bacteria, turning the whole atmosphere of your abode into that of a garbage dump. I take out the garbage. They come back. I spray the bucket. They come back. I walk around with a towel swatting them and they come back.
What recourse do I have other than burning this place to the ground?
Help.
Correspondence initiated September 30, 2009
Transcription as Follows:
Laurel Pederson Once I tried vacuuming them right out of the air...Didn’t work. I've heard cedar drives them away. Like shavings or some such. September 30, 2009 at 10:30pm
Cole Hornaday Hmm. I like the idea of vacuuming them right out of the air--that sounds like it could be a good bit of aerobic exercise. September 30, 2009 at 10:40pm
Laurel Pederson I’m not going to say it won't be fun. But they may fly right out after you turn it off. September 30, 2009 at 10:42pm
Sharon Kingsford We bought this cool little thing we hang over our compostables that does away with the pesky things. The brand name is Hot Shot. It contains dichlorvos. We'll probable find out it causes cancer or something, but at least we got rid of the fruit flies. September 30, 2009 at 10:52pm
Cole Hornaday Sharon: Is it like a fly strip? September 30, 2009 at 11:24pm
Elizabeth Ann Cable They hang out in your sink drain waiting...October 1, 2009 at 6:18am
Heidi Bertman The single fruit fly hanging out in our bathroom finally perished. I have had luck by washing down all the surfaces with a baking soda and water solution. And by keeping literally everything in the fridge. They don't survive the fridge. October 1, 2009 at 6:45am
Rachel Nathanson If you put a saucer of apple cider vinegar out they will land in it and drown. It is a good way to get rid of them. October 1, 2009 at 7:10am
Dawn Wildfang They are moist damp breeders, pour bleach in your drains and cover them. They hang out around warm moist fresh water spots to lay eggs that look like specks of fine ground sawdust and usually attach up under the sink, counter. Also put away any food source, fruit.
Too many years of bartending knowledge. October 1, 2009 at 7:46am
Sharon Kingsford It looks more like a long rectangular air freshener. It's a yellow strip of something encased in plastic with a hanger at the top. They call it a pest strip. You can see a picture here http://www.drugstore.com_xp88409_333181_sespider/hot_shot/no_pest_strip.htm October 1, 2009 at 1:00pm
Rachel Nathanson Um, did you read the caution on that thing? I might opt for apple cider vinegar. ;-\ October 1, 2009 at 3:58pm
Cole Hornaday Oookaay. I picked up some cider vinegar, will try that when I got home tonight. Dawn, if that fails, you'll find me dumping bleach down the drains as well--I just hate that stuff so much. October 1, 2009 at 4:03pm
Laurel Pederson CEDAR! Dude. It drives them away. Shavings or something. Or cedar mothballs. And it smells better than vinegar. October 1, 2009 at 4:10pm
Transcription Ends.
File Corruption Resolution Initiated. Remnant as Follows:
Cole Hornaday DROS-War Zone Journal
Entry Date 09.10.03
Final Entry.
The night was endless. Shortly after dusk, enemy sorties broke the air space over the counters and sink into strategic grids, whirling and diving in an ecstatic dance of death and destruction. Shiva smiled.
Chemical assaults on the Formica no-man’s land yielded little ground. When the aerosol option was exhausted, we met the enemy hand-to-hand with standard issue terry-cloth towels and rolled newspaper. Casualties were meager on either side.
Enemy troops continued to rally, emerging from shower and garbage disposal drains, waste buckets and cupboard crannies. It was clear enemy proliferation was imminent without an immediate and all-encompassing deterrent: the nuclear card was dealt.
Filling a saucer with apple vinegar and placing upon the glass carousel, we drew back and waited in the gloom for the enemy to take the bait.
A buzzing filled my ears, and not the persistent tinnitus earned that summer spent blasting Metallica dialed up to eleven. The enemy had arrived and they were everywhere. They gathered about the saucer’s rim. The waiting was agony. But not a single one fell in. Perhaps the Intel was wrong? Minutes turned to more minutes and more minutes turned into about and hour, but nary a fumble was made by the adversaries.
Time was up. Dozens of enemy troops were now gathered at ground zero. It was now or never. I slammed shut the microwave door and set the keypads for HIGH and 2:00 MINUTES.
No satisfying sparks, pops, or orchestral wails, just the droning sound of the exhaust fan and the trundle of the carousel.
When I opened the shielded door, all was silent. Suddenly a red speck of movement and one—NO, TWO of the enemy emerged from cover, taking flight they instantly disappeared.
How?
For generations man has used the drosophila fruit fly as the subject for numberless genetic experiments. Thanks to their speedy period of reproduction and brief lifespan, geneticists can tease and mutate, write and re-write, map and remap changes wrought upon the fly’s mitochondrial code—filling volumes with data, enough to rival the stacks of Alexandria.
They can survive just about anything, even having their very insides irradiated into a super-heated microwave scrambled.
Since dawn all has been quiet and strangely so.
I smell burning cedar for some reason…
And I keep hearing something eldritch, bloated and squamous moving within the walls.
October 2, 2009 at 7:13pm
Transcription Ends.
Sharon Kingsford Thanks Cole! You just helped two more fruit flies mutate yet again. When you wake up some night and those fruit flies are sucking out all your fruity goodness you'll wish you'd risked cancer and just bought the Hot Shots. October 3, 2009 at 12:47am
“Life is a hideous thing, and from the background behind what we know of it peer daemoniacal hints of truth which make it sometimes a thousandfold more hideous. Science, already oppressive with its shocking revelations, will perhaps be the ultimate exterminator of our human species -- if separate species we be -- for its reserve of unguessed horrors could never be borne by mortal brains if loosed upon the world."
H.P. Lovecraft "Facts Concerning the Late Arthur Jermyn and His Family"
