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The kitchen’s become a battlefield. After sunset, the buzzing starts—a taunting drone that crawls under Jimmy’s skin. He flicks the light switch, but the second the room floods bright, the flies vanish. Silence. Shadows. Then darkness falls again, and the hum returns, louder now, like laughter. They’re toying with him. Squatters in his sink, invaders in his pantry, these aren’t ordinary pests. They’re smart. Fast. Vicious. Jimmy’s done playing nice. Tonight, he’s turning this warzone upside down. Swatters, traps, sprays—whatever it takes. But the flies won’t go quietly. Their numbers swell. They dive-bomb his ears, swarm his eyes, bite harder each time. Survive the onslaught, outsmart their ambushes, and maybe—just maybe—he’ll reclaim his kingdom. Let the hunt begin.
