The Plight Of The Mayfly
Whereabouts: Unknown
Timeframe: Sometime in May
Translated by: Francis Ledbetter
“I am quite possibly the most intelligent Mayfly ever,” boasted Melvin.
“Oh, Melvin. You can’t say that,” replied his wife, Charlotte, “after all, how can you prove it?”
“Aha! A very inductive question, my dearest Charlotte. How, indeed, can I prove it?”
“Melvin, darling, that is what I just said.”
“I know, darling. I know. Moving forward, Charlotte… I am assuming you mean that, we, as a species have no recorded history due to our atypically short twenty-four hour lifespan, correct?”
“Precisely.”
“Charlotte, my love, you can have faith that I, the most intelligent Mayfly ever, am going to change life as we know it - for I have begun the daunting task of recording the proud history of the Mayfly. Why, Charlotte darling, I am merely in my seventeenth hour. I am in the prime of my life.”
“That sounds so wonderful, Melvin. But how will you ever manage? Recording our history is a lot to take on being that our language is choppy [sic] at best; we have no form of written communication available to us; and it is a sheer miracle we, that is, you and I, are able to communicate, considering the complete absence of prior education.”
“I found a loophole.”
“A loophole?”
“Yes, my dear, a loophole.”
“What is a loophole?”
“A loophole is a means of escaping inconvenience. However, my dearest Charlotte, that is not what’s important. Rather what is important is that I have found one.”
“What is it, then? What is this, this loophole?”
“It’s really rather simple. I have devised a plan utilizing a systematic structure of fabrication, thievery, plagiarism and finally – the key to the entire plan - the employment of a contractor. Tuk, tuk… before you ask, my dear, a contractor, at least the one I have located, is someone versed in the meticulous details of language development and implementation. Alas, someone who has been in a similar predicament previously. A Dr. Snyder, to be exact.”
“Dr. Snyder?”
“Dr. Snyder indeed! I have already briefed him on our situation and the harsh time constraints which hamper us. He will be here shortly, my enchanted Charlotte.”
“Oh, that is very exciting, dear. I am very happy for you. For us. For the Mayfly! This is a grand day.”
“Indubitably. Now if you will excuse me, dear Charlotte. I am going to lie down as I am feeling overcome with emotion. I must have a clear head for Dr. Snyder’s arrival. Please awaken me when the good doctor arrives.”
“But of course, darling.
Six Hours Later…
The doorbell rings. And again. Yet again. Dr. Snyder, curious as to the lack of an answer, peers at the address he jotted down while on the phone. He frowns, slightly perplexed as it matches the numbers above the door. Still curious, he peeks through the side window. He neither sees nor hears anything and decides to call it a day. Tomorrow will have to do, he decides. Dr. Snyder shrugs, turns and gets back into his car.
THE MORAL: Dr. Snyder is an asshole.