The fly kept hitting the glass, just inches away from the opening. Clive stood up and pointed one ear in it’s general direction.
“Wait, wait! Does it come out of both ears at once or just one at a time?” Francis asked.
“I don’t know actually, probably best to move just in case. OK here we go.” Clive frowned in concentration, balled his hands into fists then screwed his face up tight. Nothing happened at first, then there was a splutter and a small dribble of custard ran down both sides of his face and onto his shoulders. “Wait, I think I know what to do now. I’m getting the hang of it.” He adjusted his footing, stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth and held his breath. A high powered stream of thick yellow liquid blasted the window and splattered the wall, floor and ceiling nearby. He stopped and turned to admire his handiwork. “Did I get it?”
Stephen Ashurst - Obscure Lines