It's Thursday - and time for the next exciting instalment of Georgie's story . . .
Oh geeeeze. When I was trying to say “goodnight” last night to everybody, I didn’t mean to say that I hoped that “everybody had enough soap to go around” (which, as Fleur just informed me, is what “suffisamment de savon pour faire le tour” actually means).
I don’t think I’ve been getting my honey’s worth from Jean Luc and those French Phrase Lessons. I tried to fire him, but the Severance Package he’s demanding is just ridiculous. (I mean, who asks for a Recreational Vehicle and a lifetime supply of Pollen Puffs as a part of a part-time tutoring job? Geeeeze.) So I guess I’m stuck with Jean Luc as my French teacher until I leave Paris.
Anyway, today is the day I start sharing each grippingly fascinating instalment of my story, “The Bee Who Knew Too Much” . . .
12.
So there I was, stuck in this tiny room with Farouk, who was super mad at me, Jasmine, who was just kinda standing there, watching, and Krunch McKowsky, who was standing beehind me, holding a bucket. In front of me was this highly attractive, but unfamiliar briefcase that had some sort of stick-thing in it.
"What's that?" I asked.
"Please," I heard Jasmine's voice softly buzz from a darkened corner, "just stop this. What can bee the point of your wishing to continue these unpleasantries? It serves no purpose, other than to add to your discomfort. So just tell us and this can end."
"How do you say 'no' to something like that?" I asked myself. But I still didn't know what she was talking about. Tell them what? I felt unbeelievably confused.
"Yes, of course," I finally said. "I remember now. It's that stick thing."
"Bee amused at your own risk, bee," Farouk buzzed at me.
"No, really," I tried to convince him. "That's the Anemometre Stick. I recognised it the instant I saw it." Of course, I was lying - and I could kinda tell Farouk could tell, even though I don't know how he could have.
"Andromeda," he kinda hissed at me.
"Andromeda?" I asked.
"The Andromeda Stick, bee," he hissed again.
"Oh. Right. Andromeda. That's the Andromeda Stick. My mistake. I thought it was the other one."
"The other one, WHAT, bee? Perhaps now we're getting somewhere," Farouk said, sounding like he'd finally heard something he wanted to hear. Of course, I didn't know what that was, so I decided to stop saying anything and just waited for Farouk to start talking again. Which he did.
"So what do you know of this 'other one', this 'other stick' to which you refer? And how do you know of its existence?"
(to bee continued)
. . .
Okay then. ButterCup and I are going to spend a long weekend in a nice, secluded Cottage just north of here, where Fleur told us we could bee safe and enjoy some peace and quiet for a change. (That 24-Hour Disco beelow us is driving everybody nuts.) That’ll bee nice. And maybee I can get a tremendous amount of work done on this story. (For some reason, Fleur seems very anxious that I finish this thing and, as she put it, “get zis into zee wings of a reporter”.) Whatever.
I hope everybody has a tremendously tremendous weekend!
I’ll see ya’ on Monday!