Extreme color shock therapy

The sign outside said
PANSIES
PANSIES
PANSIES

I walked into the outdoor shop and all memories of the brown and gray months were instantly laser-extracted  from my brain through my eyeballs even though I immediately put my sunglasses on. My mission was to find a large specimen of hosta but the perennials hadn't arrived at the nursery yet. Instead, there were pansies.

The whiteflies that have infested my indoor hibiscus had their little universe destroyed today. On the sunny driveway, I hosed them off with such force that I probably killed half of them. The survivors, wet and cold, clinging for their lives, were misted with an appropriate insecticide. The few remaining, hardy individuals will think mistakenly that they have been chosen by some divine force to propagate their species and re-inhabit the plant. That is until they fly into the strips of sticky flypaper I'm hanging from the twigs. Should one or two Rambo flies manage to avoid the strips and start celebrating prematurely by sucking on the leaves, they will ingest a noxious mixture of water and systemic poison that will most assuredly do them in.

Don't mess with me, whiteflies. You can go suck on someone else's houseplants.