There is a Fly. On the Wall

   Hey.  Owen Tucker here.  Again.
   This time round I’m going to introduce you to a new friend.  I’ll tell you all about him in the journal part.  I’m just mentioning him here because I’m gonna need your help with this.  The reason for which is that this new guy has a Scottish accent.  And it’s one thing to imitate a Scottish accent, and a whole different story to write one.  But this guy just isn’t the same if you don’t hear him with a Scottish accent.  I’ll try my best to write one, but this is a good time to put your imaginations to good use!  Scottish accents FTW!
   6/28/12:  On this date (that being the 6th of June in the year 2012) I was sitting in my room, reading a book when a fly started buzzing around, annoying me.  I took a swipe at him.  Missed.  Took another swipe.  Missed again.  Another swipe, another miss.  After several minutes more of this, I lost my previously cool temperament.
   “Get out of here you bugger!” I yelled.
   “Haha!  Ye’ll nevah manage to swat me, laddie,” the fly answered with a Scottish accent.
   I stopped swinging at him. “Whoa!  Cool!  You have a Scottish accent.”
   The fly alighted on the back of my chair. “Indeed Ah do.”
   “That’s sweet.  What’s your name?”
   “Ma name is,” the fly did a fancy little loopy thingy. “Wilfred De Wasper.”
   I stared at him. “Wasper?”
   “Aye.  Ya got a problem with et?”
   I shrugged. “Well, not really.  But, uh, you’re a fly, not a wasp.”
   “Ya don’t think I know that?”
   “If you do, why is your name Wasper?”
   “Et wasn’t very weel my idea, now was et?  Ma mother named ma.”
   “Oh, well, in that case, we’d best just move on.”
   “Ah thought as much.”
   I thought about the possibilities Wilfred had, and smiled. “So, being a fly and all, you can do the whole ‘fly on the wall’ sneaky thing, right?”
   “Ach!” I heard the tiniest of sounds and figured it was Wilfred smacking his forehead (if flies have foreheads). “Wha did ya humans have to cume up with such a stoopid song?  Eve’where Ah go now, all Ah hear is ‘fly on da wall fly on da wall fly on da wall’.  Drives a fly bonkers it does.”
   I stifled a laugh.  “Okay then.  No flies on the walls then.”
   “Although, Ah do admit, the sneakin’ around sounds fun.  Ah’d need some cool theme music though.”
   “Oo!  You mean like the Mission Impossible stuff.  That stuff is like the bedrock of secret sneaking theme music.”
   “Exactly why we should na use it.  To cliché.  We need somethin’ new.  Somethin’ exciting.”
   I stroked my chin. “Hhhmm.  I got nothing.”
   Wilfred chuckled. “Tha’s because you’re the human.  Ah’m the fly.  Ah’m the sneakin’ one.  Ah’ll think up ma own music.”
   “Ohoho.  A musical fly, eh?”
   It was at this pointed I wished I could actually see Wilfred and his body language.  But since I couldn’t, I just envisioned him in a suit, tugging at his lapels.
   “Indeed Ah am, laddie.  And et won’t be any of that ‘fly on a wall’ garbage.”
   I chuckled. “All right.  I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

   To be continued…if Wilfred doesn’t die by flyswatter…