A little fly landed on the end of my nose. “Good day, little fly,” I said, “what have you been up to today?”

The fly cleared her little throat, and with a squeak and a buzz, she piped “Hello there friend! Not much at all! Just living the fly life! Hopping from shit to shit and filling my little tummy!”

“That’s cute, little fly!” I replied, with a friendly wink. “Did you wash your little feet?”

“Wash my little feet? Oh, friend, I wish I could! For I do love shit, but it sure does give you sticky toes! And, you see, I cannot afford soap!”

“That’s a shame little fly, I shall give you a job, and pay you three pounds an hour!”

“Three pounds an hour!”

“Tell me little fly, do you have any special skills?”

“Why yes, friend, I am an expert in tax law! And I have found it most difficult to get a job in this difficult economic climate! But—”

“Perfect, little fly, I need someone to look over my tax returns! You’re hired!”

“But, friend, three pounds an hour is far less than minimum wage, and although I am most grateful—”

Squish.