“You’re a pretty dandy guy” said the fly on rye.
“To the apple of my eye” said the fly on the pie.

“Stop it! Stop right now!” Edward growled.

“Stop what?” asked the fly on rye and the fly on the pie simultaneously.

“Don’t you ‘what?’ me. You know what I’m talking about.”
Edward was infuriated by the fly’s mocking him.

“How dare they mock me?” Edward thought to himself.
“Rhyming flies I do despise.”
“ARGH!” He shouted.

This startled the flies.

“Now I’m doing it. It’s your fault you damn insects.” Edward spat.
“You’re causing me to rhyme damn fly on rye and you, the fly on the pie.”

“We don’t know what you’re talking about.” The two insects chirped out.

“Don’t you lie to me, DON’T YOU DARE LIE TO ME.”

Edward was livid at this point, livid enough that he stormed out of the kitchen. Out of his restaurant and into his garage.

“I’ll show them, those damn flies.” Muttering angrily to himself, he picked up the canister of gasoline that was saved for emergencies. He walked through the front door and locked it.

Stepping back into the kitchen, Edward looked different. Gone was the passion in his eyes. Gone was the lust for cooking that once filled this chief’s heart. What replaced it was anger, raw and pure. Anger and betrayal now coursed through his veins. A fire of immeasurable power engulfed his mind and it would soon engulf his restaurant.

Edward opened the canister. He stared at the sink, dousing appliances, utensils, restaurant goers, employees.
Oven… Doused
Refrigerator… Doused

“What’s he doing?” said the fly on rye.
“Don’t know.” said the fly on the pie.
They were confused so they just stood there, the fly on the pie and the fly on rye.

Edward doused everything he could think of. However, in his rage clouded rampage, he forgot to douse the rye and he forgot to douse the pie.

In one last stand, Edward soaked himself with the remaining gasoline. Oblivious to the panic in the remainder of the restaurant, he lit himself on fire. Everything, the kitchen, the oven, the refrigerator, the employees, the restaurant goers. All of it, burned to the ground.

Everything charred.
Edwards’s remains just sat there.
Everything was in ruins.

The flies however escaped and lived on to rhyme another time.