Greetings from the Fruit Fly Assasin

That's right, I've been surrounded by fruit flies for what seems like weeks and I can't kill them fast enough! They are in the washroom downstairs, hanging around on the toilet seat (!?!), looking for what I'm not sure, taunting me on the bathroom mirror, attacking the last sliver of fresh tomato from the garden I've hidden for the next meal, resting on the spoons and spatulas sitting in their containers on the counter and trying to act all camouflage, blending in to their surroundings on the kitchen cupboard doors. And I'm tired of it! Yesterday I put the entire basket of apples in the fridge along with the small plate of pears I had sitting out, I scrubbed the compost bucket and they still seem to be breading like, well, flies! As they dive bomb me in the kitchen each time I enter the room, I raise my hands in preparation and begin to strike. I have developed an effective technique. I catch them in mid-air, clapping my hands together to squish 'em between the palms (careful not to lose them in the uneven surface of the fingers) or smack them directly on the wall, freezer or cupboard door usually yelling something like "Die [swear word] die!" "Get out of here you little [swear word]!" But my resolve is weakening and my hands are beginning to ache from the constant violent clapping . . . If I'm not careful Bruce will be coming home to a house under siege ... H E L P!