Jonesy

The slightest warming of the cool night air told Jonesy that morning had arrived. With reluctance he forced his thousand eyeballs open the smallest slit and sure enough, there was the sun peeking its nosey face into the calm peaceful morning world. A moment later when all his sensory departments were operational he became aware that all his so called "friends" were long gone. He was not annoyed by the aggressive embrace everyone else seemed to always have for life. He was not even threatened by the motivated and meticulous methods they employed to find the best food. No, he was frustrated with himself. He just could never seem to replicate their success no matter how hard he tried, or how much coaching he received. Most of the others figured he was lazy or lame and simply ignored him. It was the ones that continually hazed him that really made him sad. Maybe today will be different he thought as he stretched his three sets of legs and ran his sensitive hands over his wings to make sure they were as he had left them. Confident that everything was ready to go Jonesy leapt off his leaf and into the crisp air wings instantly snapping into action lifting him higher. Today, he thought, I will find the smelliest and most delicious food!
After flying for hours Jonesy settled on a twig gasping with fatigue. Despite his optimistic and frantic search, he had found nothing to eat all morning. Meanwhile he had encountered many of his tribe who were already heavily loaded and satisfied after a huge meal. Some of the nicer ones tried to help him out giving him hints and ideas about where to find a tasty banana peel or some raunchy spilled milk. Whenever Jonesy arrived the food would be finished off or completely crowded with the feeding frenzy of his peers. As he sat on his leaf of solitude he began to feel bad about himself. Maybe the others were right; maybe he would never be skilled in his profession.
Just then electrical impulses began firing in his control panel. He was confused at first and then realized something sweetly intoxicating was near. Very near. He scanned the horizon but could not pin point where the tremendous aroma was coming from. He buzzed around in a circle pattern just as he had been taught slowly increasing the circle size trying to catch the gradient of the smell. Then, without warning, the smell hit him from below like a rain drop going the wrong direction. The intensity of the smell nearly knocked Jonesy out of his flight pattern. He gathered himself and descended directly down landing on the rim of a crater. He gazed into the deep crater the strong aroma completely enveloping him. Deep down at the bottom he could hear the pop and sizzle of whatever delicious substance that was releasing the smell. He wanted to dive down into the crater and explore whatever had attracted him. His instincts told him to be cautious however. Slowly he took a few steps down the vertical wall. After only a few steps the wall rapidly tilted horizontally, everything went dark and then Jonesy felt water surround him completely and begin sucking him below. His head dropped below the surface level and as he tried to yell him mouth was filled with sweet liquid. Jonesy's senses became conflicted as his gut told him to drink as much of this delicious substance as possible while the rest of him wanted out, and fast! Wildly he flung all six legs at full speed trying to rise himself above the ocean to fly up and away. His struggle seemed only to sink him further into the cold sticky liquid. The turbulence of the waves overpowering him slowed and a dim light allowed Jonesy to see that the liquid was not water but some type of brown foamy substance. There is no time for reflection on this, the world was tipping again and this time poor Jonesy sliped all the way to the bottom. As he opened his mouth the brown liquid floods in and fills him up. He looks up towards wavy brown light and thinks "what a tasty way to die". Jonesy closes his eyeballs and stops his spastic movements. He hears the voice of his grandfather "Fly towards the smell Jonesy, follow the stench"! In his void of darkness Jonesy smells a fantastically powerful and organic odor. As he moves in the direction of the aroma a calm euphoria flows into him.
Suddenly the stench vanishes like a minnow from a shadow and the world is bright and noisy. Jonesy feels a strong wind and opens his eyes to see what has happened. The wind rips down on him from a dark opening surrounded by red bristles. Jonesy notices that the wind carries the same stench as the brown liquid that swallowed him only moments ago. He is bothered by the wind and wants to find a safe place to hide. When he attempts to stand and fly away he struggles with the weight of his soaked body. But the wind is drying him at a quick rate and soon he is able to get his feet to work again. Once on his feet he starts checking himself for damage. Everything seems to be in working order but he is unable to move his wings. "I am crippled"! He exclaims. Horrified he runs his six hands over each wing in alternating order, left then right. Then with the slip of an alcoholic surgeon, one hand slips under a wing and with a pop they both begin buzzing with life! One final check and Jonesy is up in the air again. For a while his flight is erratic and he bumps into leaves and other members of his tribe, but eventually he returns to normal. Later that night Jonesy tells the story of his adventure that day, and how he looked death right in the nose. His story is verified by a few others that had been in the area and heard his cries. They described how they watched him fall into the pit and then his lifeless drenched body. They fill in the details of the strong wind telling that it was some monster covered in red fur that made multiple attempts to eat Jonesy. From that day on, Jonesy never had another day struggling for food. He was elected assistant to the vice secretary of stench and recovery and each day his meals were brought to him.