13

I noticed something interesting the other day. I suddenly noticed that some amongst us who simply have too much to say. And it doesn’t matter what the Topic might bee - they just have too much to say about it.

Take Bert, my Illegitimate Nephew, Kevin’s, Artificially-Intelligent Robot iBee - or what’s left of him (as we all know, Bert was drastically wounded when one of those cheap Air Conditioning Units the Snark Brothers installed in the Hive last year fell on top of him . . . ever since then, Kevin’s been trying to piece him back together). Anyway.

I found it necessary to pay Kevin a visit to return the latest copy of the weekly Bee Monthly Issue the other day. I had planned to just buzz in, drop it off, and leave right away; unfortunately, when I walked in, Kevin was holding Bert’s head and he said, “Hey Uncle Georgie, I think I’ve almost managed to get Bert’s Negatronic Brain functioning properly, but I need you to help me run a few, minor tests.”

How could I say no? He’s my Illegitimate Nephew, after all.

“First,” Kevin said, “I need to ask you to ask Bert how he’s doing.”

So I did that. Then Bert (or his head, really) started to hum, his eyes lit up and he started to talk.

“How am I, you ask?” he said. “I will tell you. I am doing fine. My Negatronic Circuits are Sequencing beeyond even the most optimistic projections, and my Sensors are functioning at Maximum Capacity,” he said.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said (beecause I was…Bert hadn’t been feeling that well after his Air Conditioner Mishap).

“On such a day as this,” he continued, “Wednesday, April 18, 2018 as recorded on the Gregorian Calendar, and at the Current Local Time, which is precisely Nine Hours, 27 Minutes, and 87 Seconds…88 seconds…89 seconds… MARK.”

“Okay, thanks, Bert,” I said, hoping he was done. He wasn’t.

“The Current Outside Temperature…”, he wouldn’t stop talking. “… is a balmy 281.483 Degrees Kelvin. The Relative Humidity is a Delightfully Tolerable 13.11%. The Surrounding Air Mass is traveling at a leisurely 0.2 Kilometres Per Hour at our present location…”.

“Okay, alright,” I said. “That’s about all the Information I need, so you can stop now.”

But he didn’t.

“… and a slightly more brisk 5.3 Kilometres Per Hour outside the confines of the Structure which we currently occupy… “ then his voice trailed off for just a second before he kept talking.

“You know,” he said in a Wistful Whine, “I miss my body. I really do. And do you know one of the first things I’d do if I were still all put together? Let me tell you: I ‘d… .”

Just then, Kevin stepped in and switched him off.

“I think,” he said, “Bert still has a few bugs. He’s never been that Overly Informative beefore.”

“Whatever,” I said, then gave Kevin back his copy of the latest weekly Issue of Bee Monthly, which (I probably forgot to mention) I had borrowed from him, and left.

So now, I’m Highly Informed.

Speaking of which . . . one thing I now know, and am glad that I remembered, is that tomorrow is ButterCup’s Birthday. I buzzed over to see her while she was on her break from the Hive’s Redundant Typing Pool the other
day and she asked me if I was gonna forget that again this year, and would I please stop running around telling everybody how old she is (I’ll just say she’s younger than I am), and that underneath all that makeup, she’s actually blue. Anybody who knows me knows that I know when to share and NOT to share, so…

“I would never reveal such Delicate Information, ButterCup,” I told her. “And OF COURSE I’ll remember your birthday! Geeeeeze.”

She just gave me a funny look and went back to her
Redundant Typing.

I need to remember that tomorrow, that it’s ButterCup’s
Birthday. I’m sure I will, probably. I also need to come up with some sort of Massively Unexpected and Useful Surprise for her. Something spectacular. Something that someone turning 29 would need and appreciate.

So I’m gonna go do that.

Let’s all bee highly careful out there!