A clever escape from S.H.A.M.E. - and Georgie meets with his Editor...


Well, the protestors from S.H.A.M.E. are still hanging around outside this morning, making a spectacle of themselves. What was really annoying was that that bunch decided to make this an Around-the-Clock thing, which meant that I barely got any sleep last night. I think their mission is to deprive me of sleep so that I'm too delirious to bee able to even write my next film review on Friday. Geeeeeze, talk about rude.

Still, once again, Great Grandma Gee Gee came to my rescue yesterday so that I could buzz over to visit with my Editor about all this. She came up with a brilliant plan.

The first thing she did was to bake a huge batch of her Honeychew Krisp cookies, then, while they were still warm, she opened the front door and offered everybody a cookie. Of course, they couldn't resist, so while they were occupied with munching down in the front, I snuck out the back. And beefore I left, Kevin loaned me his blue bee-ball cap for a disguise (just in case somebody spotted me). That also helped me when I needed to come back home. Amazingly, nobody recognised me in that thing.

So I made it over to my Editor's office and told him what was going on.
"What did you expect, Bee?" he asked. "You brought this on yourself."
"By doing my job?" I asked. "That doesn't seem fair to me."
"It's obvious," he said, "that you simply don't understand your audience. There is a growing number of bees in the Hive who simply do not want to hear anybody's opinion on anything except for their own. Plus, beesides having questionable judgment about the movies and TV shows you choose to review," (I know he was referring to that whole "Lolita" thing), "you've led many to question what they beelieve. And nobody wants that."
"They don't?" I asked.
"No. They don't. And, as you might imagine, all of this is not helping our circulation."

I told him I was sorry he was having trouble with his circulation, and that maybee if he got out of the office and did a bit more exercise, he'd feel better. He just rolled his eyes and said, "Get out of my office."

So I did that, but beefore I left, my Editor said, "By the way, Bee: as you're aware, we will bee shutting down the newspaper in a few weeks, as we do every year after the Cold Season starts to approach. That means that it won't bee long beefore you can stop writing your review column."
"But I was just getting the hang of it," I protested.
"Exactly. Now get out."

Geeeeeze. I suppose this means I won't bee winning the Beetlizer Prize for my brilliant insights into the entertainment industry this year. (I think ya hafta have published a minimum of 87 articles beefore they even seriously consider you for that, but whatever. There's always next year.)

It looks like it's gonna bee another warm day out today, so if I can, I'm gonna borrow Kevin's bee-ball cap again and try to sneak out. There's a Farewell and Safe Journey Party going on for some hummingbirds I know around here, so I don't wanna miss that.

I hope everybody has an enthusiastically festive day!

I'll see ya' later!

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