PLAN  B:

Sunday morning.
The boy climbs into the bed and wakes his folks up way too early for a Sunday. Mutters something about a bee out on the back stoop, where he takes his morning pee. It’s half alive and squirming on the ground.

Ok then son, let’s not kill them. They tend to send in the calvary these days for back up.
Back to sleep then.

Until.

A buzzing in the head likes to wake us up again.
A horsefly. A big one. The invisible kind.
Louder then a twin engine prop.
Can’t quite cop a bead on him.
Turn over then. Sleep. Buzz. Sleep. Buzzzz.

Then the single buzzing stopped and it became a chord, my eyes blasted wide open. It’s no horsefly.
Killer bee alert !

The wife and I sprang from the bed. The boy stayed put and looked confused. Little lu lu still so sound asleep, but rosa would be the first to bite it. Dogs always get it bad.

The buzzing now is insane, aggravated and celebrated. It’s a buzzed bikers party from a drive-in Bee movie.

They sound like they’re already in the room. But where are they ?

Then we look at the little oil painting hung on the wall by the head of the bed which just covers up the flu hole to the chimney we don’t use. We look at each other. Then at the painting again.
They are in the painting!
No. they are behind the painting !!!

They must have come down the chimney. The missus here duct taped a thin little piece of clear plastic up over that flu hole many years ago to keep out the draft in winter. Or did she ?
We wonder if it still in one piece after all this time ?

It’s time to lift that painting and see what lives bee hind it.

Slowly I turn. Step by step. Inch by inch. The painting getting bigger in my eye ball wired nerve, my hand moving in closer, the buzz wilder then before and maintaining.

If the bees breach the perimeter, its going to get severe in here.
The kids are going to have get hauled out fast. Its going to be raining barbed stingers. It’s going to cloud our future.

I hear they tend to go for the mouth because of the co2 emitting there.

Ok then, hands on the painting now.

It’s a sweet little scene, this painting. Its our house from the front street vantage. The 2 barracudas in the dirt drive. The blue adobe looking dreamy and asleep. Ever now and again we get invaded by a colony of artists that fly in from all points to get a buzz from their love of painting by visiting different locals. So one of the painters sent us this little scene they did on such an occasion. It’s a honey.
Very sweet gesture and nicely covers that old flu hole.

Ok then.
Slowly lifting that sweet little scene off the wall hook now: easy: easy:
Looks like the plastic is still there !
A quick scan and it seems to be without any wear or weathered little holes. And then the bees get riled up by the light I am letting in now and start bumping up against the thin clear plastic.

Are they stinging it ?

No no no no: place the painting back upon, and rush out back to have a look see. And there just up on the roof above, a thick black cloud of bees swarming around the chimney top.

Ok then back in the house.

The kids and dog are ok for the time being. Go about waking up the little one and get them both dressed and out the door to anywhere else while the adults will remain to defend the perimeter.
Or at least figure out how not to muck it up too bad.

So: after calling a few bee chasers, it is determined that me and doug will give it a shot smoking them out. Poke a little hole in the plastic and with the little fire we would start in the watering can, and with the help of the hair dryer, we would attempt to blow that smoke and smoke out that hole in the wall gang.

But then, just as we are apt to proceed, the phone rings, and the best bee chaser from here to rio just landed in phoenix, got our message, and is on his way. Should be here in less then 2 hours.
Just flew in.

We shall sit tight. Gordon will show up and show us how to kill all 2000 of them with just soapy water. Smoke would not have been a good idea he says. Just makes them high.

Well ok then.
It’s still a plan Bee world.

The end.