A middle-aged man performs his morning ablutions. A deeply private time for this man, involving a gratuitous amount of self-appreciation. Which would be fine if it weren’t for those two flies on the wall. They see it all: every awkward flex and embarrassing wink. And these flies are more than happy to provide plenty of blatantly honest commentary on our man’s private moments. These flies have seen too much. They need to be killed with fast, deadly Doom Insecticide.