When does drinking 'cross the line,' overcome one's good senses? Perhaps when they start 'hunting flies'.
***************************

Hunting Flies

A male, exterminator,
(bodies … incriminator)
his ‘swat’ discriminator,
stands by refrigerator--
here comes his dominator.

”Honey, what are you doing?”

“Hunting flies my dearest wife.
I have sliced some with my knife
but they suffer so with strife
it’s humane to snuff their life.”
What’s he smoking in his pipe?

”Are you having any luck?”

“Killed three males, two females--
they’re squashed but see their entrails?
They’re fast, fly, SWAT never fails!
Females weigh more … it’s their tails ...
saved their wings to make boat sails.”

”How do you distinguish flies?”

“The three males were sipping beer--
watching football. Heard them cheer.
The two ladies wore a sneer--
such a pain—from ear to ear …
on the phone. It was quite clear!”

”Honey, throw your weapons down.”

Oh, man, exterminate her,
by the refrigerator.
She’s such an alligator
can’t fly, eliminate her.

The white coats came …
much later.