Robert Robus smashes a fly

Why, hello there, dear readers; it is I, Robert Robus! This moment finds me sitting in my office, where I read, write, pen epistles--and, in sum, pontificate. But today I am distracted: indeed, I, Robert Robus, have been diverted from my habitual orotund discourse by an instantiation of the species of insect commonly known as "the fly."

And although I must admit I am not fond of crushing bugs, this infernal insect has been buzzing around my head all afternoon, and this in a highly annoying manner--the which, I am sure, will serve to excuse my future violent act in the eyes of many of my readers. So: had I a swatter (which I incidentally do), I would crush this brainless creature into a small, crispy pancake with one swift flick of my wrist.

Ahnd at any rate I, Robert Robus, have now plucked the swatter from the nail off which it habitually hangs; now I shall endeavor to extinguish the buzzing ninny in one fell stroke, ahnd. . .Oops! I just swung and missed, not unlike a hitter in baseball who was swinging for the fences and instead wound up with a lecture, a dislocated shoulder, and a goodly dose of rancor; now I swung again and missed, hitting instead a priceless ming vase (the which, luckily enough, did not shatter as it struck the floor, but instead bounced profusely as if made of rubber); now I'm swinging again, ahnd--YESSS! I got him, folks, I got him; I, Robert Robus, got the sucker! I shall now examine the remains.

--GROOHS!

I shall now return to my regularly scheduled pontification.