Most people remember the last moments of the tale of the Fly; the half man, half fly creature born of a failed experiment. The truth is very different though. The original inventor that fell into the unseen pitfalls of his experiment lived in Victorian times and when he gazed upon himself in the mirror he realized just how rude his lass might find his transformation. So he did what any proper gentleman would do: He left a message assuring he loved her and to spare her the curse of his new form he was going to promptly throw himself into a river.
In truth, the Victorian fly packed up a few things and got a very striking hat (so as to draw attention away from his face) and left for Paris where he could hope to blend in with the crowd. He gave up his scientific ways and instead became a respected critic of the arts. He met a nice (though slightly loopy) lass and settled down. They opened their own art gallery, had a few little loopy fly children and kept the company of individuals that were somewhat off like them. From An Autumn with Isidore.