Here’s some bad buzz: the results of a survey conducted by the Apiary Inspectors of America and the U.S. Department of Agriculture reveal that American beekeepers lost 44 percent of their honey bee colonies during last 12 months, marking the second consecutive year that summer bee colony losses rates rivaled expected winter colony losses. The precipitous drop in population raises some troubling questions, namely “if all the bees die, who shall do my bidding?”

Without bees, who shall answer my command to “fly, my pretties” when someone I do not like is near? Will no swarm emerge my throat, attacking whomever I point toward with their deadly stingers? Shall the pulse of my victims no longer quicken with dread as the unmistakable hum of my approaching bee army rises in their ears? Yes, bees are important for crop pollination and honey production, but they are also a most intimidating instrument of my wicked powers!


They left me to die in the apiary, but now I am back and I have dark, dark powers.


Shall I spend precious time invoking dark majicks to command spiders and rats, then? The squeak of a rat — even hundreds of them — cannot hold a candle to the terrible buzz of my swarm, which is the only way you can tell I am near. Everyone has eaten a spider in their sleep, but the sight of a beautiful, deadly bee crawling out of my tear duct or past my lips is more disturbing by far! We must save the bees, the pretties whom the devil lets me control with my mind.

Bee-crucial crops like almonds notwithstanding, it’s in everyone’s interest to save the bees. Without them, I shall have no choice but enact my revenge the old fashioned way: by coming for your hottest teenagers in their dreams.

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