The gang in Paris . . .
Well, we had a fairly interesting, though frustrating day today.
Great Grandma Gee Gee told us she wanted to do some sight-seeing, so she packed up some Honeychew Krisp cookies she brought with her so we could snack along the way, then we headed out.
I hafta say that, even though it was warmer today here in Paris, it wasn’t that warm. It was foggy with a bit of chilly breeze blowing, so we spent most of our time just trying to stay warm (and munch on cookies).
One of the things Gee Gee wanted to visit was some sort of super-tall radio tower. She thought was somewhere toward the middle of the city, but it was so foggy that we really couldn’t tell where the middle of the city was, exactly.
It’s a real shame that the Humans in Paris didn’t put up some sort of obviously visible hint as to where that tower-thingy was, but whatever.
We finally gave up, decided to grab a late supper at a nearby café, then came back to our room at the Nom de Plume Motel and 24-Hour Disco. As soon as we finish tying pillows over our antennae to cut down on all that music thumping from downstairs, we’re gonna go to sleep.
Dunno what we’re gonna do this weekend, but I’m sure we’ll think of something.
And since you brought it up, I hope everybody has a massively superlative weekend!
I’ll see ya’ on Monday!
It's nice to know that Georgie and the bunch are safe and sound . . .
Hello everybody! I hafta make this reasonably short, beecause I can’t get over this feeling I’m beeing watched.
In case you hadn’t heard, I’m currently in Paris, France, and am writing this from the relative safety and comfort of the room we’re all sharing in the beeautiful and luxurious Nom De Plume Motel and 24-Hour Disco Lounge.
In case you’re curious: After Krunch McKowsky came to the door with those arrest warrants, Kevin, Great Grandma Gee, Bert and I looked at each other and knew the best course of action would bee to leave town. So, I made a quick call to Fleur who was more than willing to help, then sent a secret message to ButterCup in the Hive to pack a bag and meet us at the airport.
She did that, and the next thing we knew, we were on a French Military Transport Plane to Paris, where Fleur met us and took us to this motel, where we’ve pretty much been stuck since we arrived (and had to suffer the non-stop thumping of that Disco Music coming through the floor).
We thought about going out for some supper in a bit, but Bert just informed us that it’s only 275.372 Kelvin out, which is just too chilly for my tastes. So we’re staying in and ordering Room Service. (I ordered the French Honey Soup.)
Anyway. I hafta go now. Room Service just knocked on the door. I’ll bee back as soon as I can to keep everybody posted about what’s going on.
I hope everybody has a magnifique journée, as the French say.
I’ll see ya’ later!
Didn't see this coming at all . . . and it's Wednesday, time for Part 11 of Georgie's story...
and now, this week's chapter of . . .
11.
"Silence!" one of the Guard Bees said to me in a not-very-nice way.
I heard the clanking of what sounded like a bucket, then felt the pressure of something wet beeing poured onto the towel and right into my face. For a brief moment, I could taste the sweetness of the nectar they were dumping all over me and thought that I would have much preferred simply beeing served a beverage in the usual way - you know in a long-stemmed acorn cup with two wild raspberries, a bendy straw and an umbrella.
Quite frankly, there was no way I could swallow that fast, so I beegan to regret asking for a sip of something. Aside from feeling somewhat grateful to finally have something that offered my mouthparts some moisture, I remember thinking, "This is highly rude."
It didn't seem at all that either Farouk or Jasmine cared about that.
They just kept at me.
"You WILL talk," I heard a voice say, as I found myself sputtering from the overabundance of nectar.
Thankfully, I had been able to swallow just enough to find myself able to talk again and, after they removed that towel thingy from my face, I was able to tell them, "I am Georgie Bee. Georgie A. Bee of 1, Boot Box Lane, Manitou Springs, Colorado. Please do not do that again. It's just not a nice thing to do to somebody and, quite frankly, it's amazingly rude."
"Again, bee, we are well aware of your assumed identity. But you seem determined to continue your foolish and dangerous charade. So bee it - for now. But you will tell us how you knew about the Mission. And from whence did you garner your very detailed and admirably accurate knowledge of the Andromeda Stick? TALK!"
"You're asking about my novel again, aren't you?" Despite feeling incredibly sticky all over, my concentration seemed to bee returning to me. Mostly. "It was all make-beelieve," I told them.
"Still you persist in your pretended ignorance. We will see how your performance stands up when you are confronted with the proof of your treachery. GUARD!" I could tell Farouk was upset, as he shouted again.
"GUARD! BRING THE CASE!"
A few seconds later, the metal door of the small, mostly-dark room in which I was beeing held squeaked open and the Guard Bee, the one-and-only Krunch McKowsky, walked in, carrying a small briefcase.
"Try your denials now," Farouk said in what I can only describe as an irritated buzz as he slammed the briefcase down on the table in front of me.
I could only shrug. I mean, it was a nice briefcase and everything, but I really didn't recognize it at all.
Just then, Farouk beegan entering a Secret Code into the latch that kept the briefcase locked closed. I heard a few beeps and saw some lights flash, then Farouk opened the case. He turned it toward me so I could
see what was inside.
. . .
(to bee continued)
...wonder who's at the door ...?
I'm incredibly disappointed that my favourite contestant in last night’s “Now THAT Bee Has A Lot of Talent! : The Semi-Finals” Talent Contest was disqualified. She was incredible. Her talent was crawling in and out of a series of tight spaces - almost-full pop cans, match boxes, etc. - in just a few seconds. It was amazing to watch. She was disqualified after she had crawled inside a box of match sticks and her feet moved so fast, the friction caused the matches to ignite. The box burst into flames just as she was making her exit. For a second or two there, we thought she might not make it out in time, but she managed to escape with only a slightly singed stinger.
It was very exciting.
I had really hoped she'd move on to the next round; unfortunately, beecause of her starting that fire and almost burning down about half of the set on stage, she was not only disqualified, but immediately arrested for starting a fire in a crowded theatre.
Anyway. We'll hafta wait until next week to see if they got the sets repaired and find out who moves into the final round. I can't wait.
In the meantime, Kevin (my Illegitimate Nephew), told me that he managed to fix it so we can watch the Special Speech that Queen Bee did last night.
"I think I got the whole thing," he said. "I might have missed the opening credits, but at least we'll bee able to hear what the Queen had to say. But I do need to ask you a question, uncle."
"What?" I asked.
"What does 'mandatory viewing' mean?"
"Oh, that means that you hafta watch something. Why do you ask?"
"Well, I noticed that when I first hit 'record', there was a big thing that said, 'THIS IS MANDATORY VIEWING. NO EXCEPTIONS.' "
"Really? It said that?" I asked.
"Yes, it did. Does this mean we'll get in trouble for watching the Talent Show last night instead of the Queen's broadcast?" Kevin seemed very worried.
"Oh, I'm sure it's fine. We can watch it this afternoon and nobody will bee the wiser," I told him.
Kevin seemed highly relieved.
Well, somebody’s knocking on the door, so I need to go see who it is.
I hope everybody has an amazingly effervescent day!
I'll see ya' later!
PS: Don't forget to check in tomorrow for the next part of my ongoing story, "The Bee Who Knew Too Much"! See ya' then!
It should bee interesting to hear what Queen Bee has to say for herself . . .
I woke up this morning feeling unexpectedly exhausted, but strangely excited. Ya’ know why? It’s beecause all night last night, I dreamed that I was doing all the way cool and fun stuff that a new Monday offers. And here it is, Monday - and I get to live the day all over again! (Except this time, I’m NOT gonna spread glow-in-the-dark honey all over my bedroom walls while wearing a top hat like I did in my dream. That was just a huge, giant mess, even though it made sense at the time.)
Anyway.
I heard that, over the weekend, Rudy hired S.O.Bee, the Hive Lawyer, to secretly audit Queen Bee’s books. It turns out that, unlike other Queens we’ve had, this Queen has somehow managed to acquire (that means “to get ahold of”, in case you didn’t know) almost 99% of the Hive’s honey and resources and has been keeping them all for herself. She also didn’t pay any taxes or fees last year.
Geeeeeze. That’s outrageous.
Word is just starting to get around in the Hive about all this, so there’s a growing buzz about a possible uprising.
According to an article in this morning’s Bee Times Gazette Journal Record…and Online News, The Old Girl is planning to release a pre-recorded statement to the Hive this afternoon about all this. I’m definitely going to watch that, probably, even though it’s gonna bee shown at the same time as today’s new episode of everybody’s favourite show, “Now THAT Bee Has A Lot of Talent! : The Semi-Finals”.
With that, I hope everybody has a significantly delightful day!
I’ll see ya’ later!