Boy vs. fly / Quicksand

The boy slammed the window shut, trapping the fly in between the glass and the screen. "It's just a matter of time now" he thought. Sure, it wouldn't have the same dramatic effect as burning ants with a magnifying glass or plucking the wings off of butterflies but torture was torture. Without food, water, or companionship the fly would soon perish and the boy would once again claim mastery over the universe. He watched the fly bounce between glass and screen over and over again, most certainly inflicting substantial head trauma, not to mention excruciating pain. He sure hoped flies could feel pain. "That's what you get for landing on my popsicle" he said, now also hoping flies could hear and decipher English. He watched the futile maneuvers of the fly for a full 18 minutes before growing restless and deciding that death by water pistol would indeed be more sporty and swift. The short trip to the garage to fetch the plastic weapon was thwarted as he slipped on the remains of the melted popsicle he had previously dropped on the kitchen floor, striking his head on the marble counter top before landing on the slick linoleum. His mother, overhearing the fall from the next room, responded to the site of her dead son by opening the window and yelling for the boy's father who was outside mowing the lawn.

The fly returned to what was left of the melting, sugary treat.

zeroth life lesson: life and death battles should be treated as such and not taken lightly, regardless of opponent.