THE PARABLE OF FLAKY THE FLY
Shelly Phillips

THERE WAS CERTAIN FLY WHO WAS VERY INDUSTRIOUS. HE WAS CONSTANTLY
ON THE wing looking for another meal–a place to light and eat. He
especially liked sweet things, the more sugar-coated the better!

One day while he was on a search-and-devour mission, he spotted
something that looked sweet and juicy. He dived for a closer look. Sure
enough, a large brown piece of paper hanging near the pantry door was
covered with what looked like the tastiest meal he’d seen in a long
time. It even smelled sweet!

As he buzzed in for a six-point landing, an older fly zipped in
front of him and yelled, “Shoo!” He pulled up and away wondering why
the warning. He lit nearby and the older fly sat down beside him.

“Whew!” said his elder. “I thought for sure you were a goner!”

“Why, what do you mean?” asked Flaky. “I was just about to land
on that lovely meal of sweetness on that brown paper over there. Isn’t
it nice? A whole sheet of sugary goodness just waiting for me!”

“But that’s not what you think it is. It’s flypa

“What’s flypaper?”

“Well, it’s something that humans use to attract us flies. When
we land on it, our feet get stuck and we can’t move. It is a trap.
We’ve lost a lot of flies to that stuff!”

“But it looks so inviting and innocent,” said Flaky, feeling some
hunger pangs.

“Yes,” said the older survivor, “it looks inviting and innocent,
but in the end you’d get caught and probably die right there.”

“You mean even if I don’t put all my weight down into it? What if
I just stand lightly and eat just a little?”

“Better stay away!” replied his elder as he lifted off to
continue his journey.

Flaky wondered at the warning but he always did like a challenge.
He took another look at the sweetness on the paper and his stomach seem
to whisper, “Just try it! You won’t get hurt. What harm could it do?
Just make contact with the paper–don’t bury up in the stuff. Call it
contact without compromise. Taste, but don’t be a glutton. Dabble in
it, but don’t overdo it!”

Flaky thought about it. “Yeah, contact without compromise! That’s
it. A little but not a lot. The best of both worlds. Those other guys
who got caught were probably nitwits and not as strong as me. I could
get out anytime. I’ve got powerful wings. What could go wrong?”

With a made-up mind, Flaky zoomed in and lit right in the middle
of the flypaper. He tried not to put his full weight down. Then he put
his tongue to the syrupy goodness.

“A little stickier than I thought,” he said to himself. He began
to eat, but suddenly he discovered he couldn’t get his tongue loose.
Then he couldn’t move his feet.

He pulled and tugged but he couldn’t get anything free from that
sticky old flypaper. “Now I’ve done it,” he thought to himself. “I
foolishly figured I could beat the odds and safely indulge in contact
without compromise!”

The old fly buzzed lazily overhead. He looked at his comrade whom
he had warned, solidly stuck on the flypaper.

“Another sucker took the bait,” he mused. “Too bad. One more fly
who thought he could beat the flypaper and conquer the stickiest stuff
for fly feet on earth through contact without compromise. But who has
won whom? Will they never learn?”

The moral of this story is….Ahh, you know the moral of this
story!