and were scraps of food. Ready for them to land and plant their eggs on us so they can hatch their young and eat us alive.
They fly around above our heads, scanning everything that's going on and when they find something rotting and with lack of wit, intelligence or humour, they swoop in for the kill and ban that motherfucker with a thousand fly larvae eating the thread from it's roots.
Also, when they find something good or debatable, they all rush to the same place to talk to each other, like using our creations as a meeting room.
Atleast they all die tomorrow.