The Flies Have Landed

It is summer and I have flies everywhere.  And I am not just talking about outside.  I have flies everywhere INSIDE my house.  I don't have a screen door, so in the evening, when it is cool I open the back door to let in cool air...and flies.  I have fly strips up in the living room, in the kitchen and in the bathroom.  You know those sticky ones that are oh so classy.  I feel like I should be running one of those low class diners you see in movies that signal a red-neck town.  I imagine a conversation between a sun burned man wearing a ball cap perched on top of his, flannel shirt, even though it is plus a billion, jeans and ropers and the salty, bleached haired waitress that has seen and heard it all.

Scene 24: Interior. Mid day on a hot August afternoon. FLIES buzz and get stuck to fly strips.  The pie rotator thing squeaks in the background. Old timey country tunes play softly in the background from a beat up radio perched on an even more beat up shelf on the wall.  The sun filters through dusty venetian blinds pulled over dirty windows.  A fan lazily turns the air.  The smell of coffee and grease permeats the establishment. In the front of the room is a little opening where the kitchen is just visible.  A long counter runs north-south, with wear spots in front of all the stools.  The stools have ripped vinyl seats. A salty bleached haired waitress in a stained pistachio green outfit leans on the counter, snapping her gum. Enter local red neck.

Red Neck: Howdy Darlene. It shore is a hot one out there today.  Whatcha got for a man's parched throat? (Sits at a stool)
Darlene: We got the same thing we got everyday Wyatt.  Coffee, water, soda. It ain't changed since yesterday. (sighs and snaps gum)
Wyatt: I'll take a coffee then. (Removes sweat stained ball cap.) You shore do got a lot a dem flies in here. I think you got more'n here than there is on the outside.
Darlene:  They come in through the door. We don't got a screen, so they jest fly on in here.
Wyatt: Mebbe you should invest ina screen door.
Darlene: We got fly strips. It's cheaper.
Wyatt: I can see you got at least three o' them.  You find they do the job ok? 
Darlene: Wyatt, I ain't got time to think on the effectiveness of a fly strip. They are there. Flies stick to 'em. What do I care how effective they is or ain't?
Wyatt: (hand up in surrender) Now, now, don't get your panties in a bunch. I was just makin' conversation.
Darlene: (epic sigh, eye roll) You want some pie with that coffe or no?
Wyatt: Yep. Pie an coffee souns just about perfect. What kind?
Darlene: (walks over to pie turner thing) chocolate, lemon, rhubarb.
Wyatt: Lemon.
Darlene: (cuts slice, and chucks it on a plate. Throws it down in front of Wyatt) You want whipped topping?
Wyatt: Shore.
Darlene: (squirts some whipped topping on the pie)
Wyatt: (Picks up fork, stabs piece of pie. As he brings it to mouth, it is engulfed in flies. He throws down his fork, puts on his hat, gets up to leave and says) I think you need to think on the effectiveness of them fly strips.  (Walks to the door, opens it. A million flies come in. Door closes.  Restaurant is empty.)
Darlene: Damn you flies!