Last night, my husband and I went out for dinner, as we do most Friday nights. It’s something we look forward to all during the week, and we always enjoy ourselves. We have our special place, we have our favourite meal, we have our friendly barman/waiter who always welcomes us in and makes us laugh uproariously; last night, though, we had all this, and more.
Last night, we had dinner – and we also proved the existence of String Theory. (You can insert your own dramatic music here, if you like).
We’d eaten our meal, and we were having a drink afterwards, talking over our day, enjoying the ambience and each others’ company, when I made a fateful decision. That decision was to order a glass of red wine. My husband brought me my drink – note that at this time it had not been placed into its glass, but remained firmly bottled – and I opened the bottle at our table, and poured the wine into my glass. Then, it happened.
Before I had even had the chance to enjoy the scent, let alone the taste, of my wine, a fruit fly literally zapped into existence, right before my eyes. You know, I’m sure, how they have an ability to hover directly in your line of sight, like a living dust mote, as though they’re trying to dive-bomb into your eyes – this is exactly how it was last night, but this little guy came out of nothingness. It was so shocking that I immediately had to take a mouthful of wine.
My husband and I then engaged in some philosophical discussion about the origin of this fruit fly. As we discussed it, the fly energetically bobbed and weaved around my wine glass, despite my best efforts to dissuade him. We decided he couldn’t possibly have just come into existence from nowhere, so we concluded he had come from another dimension. My husband decided it was the eleventh dimension, for reasons I’m not too clear on, but I was happy to accept his reasoning. It was then we realised we’d made the most significant scientific breakthrough of our time.
We had proved, beyond doubt, that other dimensions exist, wrapped up so tightly around our own dimension, that they can’t be seen, felt, or touched – in other words, String Theory. It was clear to us that the fly had used the nearest string to swing his way, Tarzan-like, into our existence, in order to torment and terrify us. We sat, frozen in our own genius, watching the fly dance, gleefully orbiting the glass – we theorised he was sending out strong string-vibrations into the other dimensions, attempting to summon more of his nefarious kind – and we wondered what on earth we could do. As we thought, frantically, of ways in which we could save the human race from an influx of inter-dimensional fruit flies, I had to fortify myself against the terror by consuming more and more of the wine. Imagine our horror, then, when we saw that, simultaneously with my finishing my glass of red, the fly zapped out of existence again. Had he returned to his own dimension, wrathful, filled with a need to build an army of his peers, intent on the destruction of our world? We couldn’t know.
In order to try to minimise the human casualties, we immediately left for home, hoping the fly would take his revenge on us alone. So far, we have survived. But I must warn you to beware of these fruit flies, not of our world – and beg your forgiveness for summoning them into existence! Be on constant guard for these scheming little dots of darkness, and make sure to immediately dispose of any red wine in your vicinity – together, we can save the world!