#it'll happen cause all mushrooms are cool

[alisface]

Goodluck with whatever you do today! I hope you see a cool mushroom!

#mushrooms #i said this to my girlfriend this morning #but i think everyone could benefit #good luck #it'll happen cause all mushrooms are cool

[peachirambles]

ello! I dunno if requests are open or not, but if they are I'd like to request fluff with step two or step one Renee and a reader who sees them as an older sibling.

My head doesn't have much to go off of, but it was thinking that the reader got lost on the trail one day when going there alone, and Renee just happened to find them.

Thanks for writing this if you can, and if not, thanks for looking at it!

Oh this is so cute, I love Renee so bad but she gets virtually no content so

*cracks knuckles*

Let's fix that-

Really, it should have raised more red flags in Renee's mind when she saw footprints on the muddy trail at first. Naturally, people come around these parts all the time! That wasn't such a cause for concern, or it shouldn't have been until she saw those same footprints walk off the beaten path. Something in her gut churned and before she knew it, she was leading a scuffled but relatively fine MC out back onto the trail.

"So what were you even doing out here?" She piped up, killing the air of silence that coiled around them. "You could have gotten hurt, or worse."

"Erm, I saw a pretty bird?" The MC nervously chuckled, though the chuckle died out as they saw Renee's agitated glare at them.

"That's not even remotely a good excuse." Renee sighed, pushing a branch out of the way as they walked up to the trail. "What's the real reason you were out here for?"

There was a loud, exasperated sigh behind her, and she heard the footsteps stop to a halt.

"Well... I was trying to impress Tamarack."

"Tamarack?" Renee turned around now, stuffing her hands in her hoodie pocket.

"Yeah, you see, she was raving about some rare mushroom that's apparently out here in the woods that she really wanted to see and-"

"So you thought you could find it?" Her eyebrow quirked up and the MC bashfully nodded.

"I know it's kind of stupid, but Tamarack has been going through a lot recently, and I just..." The MC's nostrils flared with a frustration that bubbled underneath the surface. "Wanted to cheer her up somehow."

There was a noticeable lull in the conversation, with the MC staring down, fully ready to be scolded. Renee knew that they were dumb for this, but... another part of her also knew why they would even do a risky move like this.

"Well... you don't have to do something amazing to cheer her up." Renee scratched at her chin. "Maybe you can gift her something involving mushrooms?"

The MC glanced up warily with a twinkle in their eyes.

"Like... food? I... I didn't think about that."

"Well, yeah, sure, Tamarack will think a rare mushroom would be super cool, but if she's not feeling good, maybe something cooked just for her could be something she actually needs." Renee nodded, giving off the impression of a wise old sage.

"Huh." The MC's eyes widened a bit, looking up at the tree canopy that surrounded them and covered the sky. "I didn't even think of that... What if she doesn't like it though?"

"Er..." Renee didn't think that far. Admittedly, she doesn't know Tamarack that well in comparison to Qiu, and while they were friends, Tamarack was more of an enigma to her than Qiu was.

"Well, it'll be the thought that counts."

"Hm. Ok!" The MC nodded before bouncing back over to Renee's side once more. "I'll do it, I'll make her something so good, it'l blow her socks off!"

"That's the spirit, now let's get out of here." Renee pointed to the thicket of trees, and the MC happily nodded. As she led them both through the forest, she felt a sigh of relief leave her as she felt the familiar crunch of the trail beneath her boots.

"So, what were you gonna cook for Tamarack?"

"Hm? Oh!" The MC snapped out of their thoughts as they thought for a moment. "Uh, I don't know. I thought you could just cook a mushroom and be done with it."

"WH- WHAT?!" Renee snapped her head towards them, and the MC sheepishly looked away. They couldn't be serious.

"Do you even know what mushroom you were gonna use?"

"Uh... a normal mushroom?"

They were serious. This was going to be a long day, Renee thought to herself as she started to explain mushroom types on the way back to town.

#our life now and forever #candy headcanons #renee murray #olnf renee #hope this was squishy enough for you #Fluffy not squishy

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 11

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. I'm sorry for the long wait, but at least this chapter is a lengthy-(ish) one, at 6,200 words! :)

Please enjoy!

A twig snaps.

When I open my eyes, it's still night-time. The moon bathes the forest floor in a pearly blue light, just bright enough for me to make out what's happening when I lift my head from the tree roots. A bulky, black silhouette groans loudly as it staggers toward the tree. A walker. A big walker, wearing a white cap. Just as I suck in a breath, ducking back down to hide, it trips over its own two feet and lands on its stomach like a big, fat seal, on top of the entanglement of roots. It lazily claws down at me with its grey-ish hands through the gaps.

I feel around for a rock, pulling one out from the dirt. I toss it away from the tree. I hear it tumble down the hill. The walker gives it a slow backwards glance, but little-girl-meat must taste a whole lot better than rocks, 'cause he turns his attention right back onto me.

He resumes moaning.

Darn.

Looks like I'm stuck with this jerk until he leaves on his own.

"Goodnight, I guess."

I close my eyes, settling back down in the dirt to try get some sleep as he flails above me.

Morning comes.

My eyes flutter open at the first sign of daylight. It filters past the roots like white-gold ribbons, onto my face. I slowly come to. I almost expect to be back in Dad's truck, wrapped up in the fish-print blanket, but the dream quickly vanishes when my skin begins to itch and my back begins to hurt. Right. The woods. The mosquitos. The ditch beneath the tree. I'm still lost and alone. I hear birds twittering in the trees.

Dirty and exhausted, I sit up.

My new friend, the asshole-walker, moved a little in the night, I see. He's rolled over onto his side, laying dormant.

I sigh, my eyes heavy. If only he did that last night.

I take my time crawling out from underneath the tree, and then I stand all the way up and stretch out my arms— God, that feels real good — and then my legs — That feels even better — and gaze out over the misty greenery around me. Wow. I made it through the night. A good start. I walk down to the stream and rinse my bug bites in the cool water, enjoying the way it burns. I'm thirsty, I realize, as I watch the water bubble past. I can't drink it, though, 'cause this is where foxes and birds and frogs poop and pee all day, and it'll make me sick. I can use the mud, though. It's thick, and runny. I smear it over my face and my neck, 'cause it's gonna get hot today, and I'll burn easily.

I pick the twigs and leaves out my hair.

When I look back up the shallow hill, I see the walker is on its feet.

"Fuck you," I call out to it, and then turn on my heels.

I follow the stream for hours.

The sun climbs in the sky.

My Dad got lost in the woods, too, once.

The way Grandpappy Dixon always told it, my Dad went missin' for nine whole days as a child. He ate wild berries, drank pond-water, and wiped his butt with poison oak to survive, and when he eventually stumbled his way back home, the first thing he did was walk straight into the kitchen and make himself a ham and cheese sandwich. My Pappy used to say that Dixons are like cockroaches. They're tough, they're mangy, and just when you think they're gone, they pop right back up again. I'm a Dixon, just like my Dad. I know how to find North, and I know which mushrooms will make ya go green and puke your brains out, and which ones won't. It's been one day for me so far. The only difference is I got people lookin' for me. I'd call that an advantage.

I also know what poison oak looks like. Three leaves, notched edges. No way I'm makin' that mistake. Ouch!

I scale a small mound that clings to the bank of the stream, sweating through my shirt like a hog. I was right. It's gettin' real hot today.

When I stand, I notice a still, black lump amongst the underbrush.

I decide to check it out.

I push back a fern, revealing the lump.

It's a really, really old walker.

Its body is shrivelled and thin like a rotten fruit skin, and it's laying on its back, staring up at the sky with glazed eyes, with its entire chest cavity torn to shreds around it. It's innards hum with flies, gooey and black like thick tar. I almost retch. It smells like every type of yoghurt in the world got mixed with dead fish brains.

I look around the tiny clearing.

I see boot-prints leading to and from the corpse.

Oh. The group.

This must have been them.

Eugh. Why?

I also see tiny bones littered around the place, which prolly came from the walker's stomach, which is flipped inside out on its thigh, which makes me gag. It looks like it's been sliced. They cut open its stomach and pulled out the bones, I realize, which deserves another gag. It's nasty, but at least they saw that none of the bones were Harley-sized. They know this walker didn't eat me up.

Disturbed, I find my way back to the stream and push on.

No walker's gonna eat me up.

I ain't never killed a walker, but I done killed a lotta other things.

Startin' small, I killed plenty of bugs before. Easy, peasy. Movin' up the food chain a little, I shot a rat with a sling shot, before. Its itty-bitty brain exploded around the pebble I flung at it, and that was that. Crunch. Dead. Then, fish. Lots of fish. So many fishing weekends. Apparently, fish don't got no feelings, so that makes it easier. Then, squirrels and possums. My Dad always makes me finish those off when he can, 'cause he says it makes me tough, and I ought to be tough. I don't like the sinking of the blade through their fluffy pelt, or the sad little squeak that comes when they die, but that's just how it is. It's how we ate when money was tight. Then, biggest of all, there's a walker. A full-grown, human person.

I haven't made it there, yet.

My Dad hasn't taught me to kill walkers like he's taught me to kill game. I know what to do in an emergency — You gotta stick 'em in the brain, Harley — but that's it. An emergency hasn't happened, yet, 'cause my Dad's always been there to kill 'em for me.

I won't let anything happen to you, I remember Shane telling me.

I bet he's already found a way to blame this all on my Dad.

I wonder if they've fought today.

Sophia's doll.

I find it caught on a branch in the water.

Dizzy from the heat of the sun, I stumble into the stream to try and fish it out.

By now, it's around mid-day, and I've tied my hair back into a pony-tail, soaked my shirt through with water about two miles back to try cool myself down, and scratched my mosquito bites completely raw. I've eaten a handful of wild raspberries and drank some water from a hole I dug adjacent to the stream, 'cause that's how you filter out the animal-germs, but I'm beyond tired. And against my best efforts, a little sun-burnt, too, all over my upper body. There's been no sign of anyone since the mutilated walker, but this— This is Sophia's doll. It's got orange yarn for hair, and two giant, blue buttons for eyes. It's definitely hers.

Matilda, I think she named it.

I lean over the fallen branch and pull the soggy doll out.

"Hi, Matilda. You're lost, too?"

I wonder if Sophia dropped her while searching.

"Don't worry." I smile, tucking her wet hair behind her round ears; petting the mud off her patchwork dress. "I'll get us both back."

I climb back outta the stream.

"This way, Matilda."

"Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma chameleon!"

I come to a sudden stop sometime in the afternoon.

"You come and go, you come and go-o-o."

That's music. Like... from a radio. As the static-y popstar voice continues singing loving would be easy, if your colors were like my dreams, I step through the dry foliage in the direction it's coming from and come across a tiny, green tent. The owner is nowhere to be seen, but the radio hasn't had time to run out of battery, so they might still be nearby. I scan the trees. No one around.

I cautiously step inside the tent.

There's the radio.

"Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma—"

I search around.

There's also a sleeping bag and a backpack. I sift through it for food or water, but there's only junk in here. A book, a crucifix, another music cassette tape, rope, and... And a steak knife. I pull it out, turning it over in my palm. It's the exact same as the ones in Dale's kitchen drawers.

Black handle, gold button.

This.. I recognise this.

Jim.

This is Jim's knife. This is knife we left him with.

That's the same rope, too.

"Oh, my God."

I back out, taking the knife with me. I take in the camp again with new eyes, feeling alarmed. The cap resting on the stump by the fire, that's Jim's, too. Those foot-prints, those discarded boots — They're both about the right size. Over there, too, that's — That's the peanut butter jar.

It's all Jim's.

This is Jim's camp.

He's alive.

"I'm a man, without conviction!"

If he's alive, he's gonna be real angry with us.

"Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma chameleon!"

I ca— I can't be here.

I spin around and dash straight for the thicket, more than ready to leave this camp far, far behind, but I run into something — Fabric, and string, a makeshift washing line — and as I'm tryna untangle myself from it, a pair of hands shoot out from the other side. They latch onto me. The shirts are ripped off the line as I struggle against them. I can't help it — I scream, and I scream loud. It's Jim, it's Jim, it's— No, no it's not Jim. It's not even a person. It's grey skin and bruised nails and yellow eyes and puffy gums, and jaws snapping in my face.

It's a walker.

It's wearing a white cap.

It's the same one from last night. It's been following me through the forest all day.

It slams me into the ground.

I brace my arms against the heavy walker's chest, crying out in pain. Underneath me, wetness begins to bloom. Then, pain. Searing, searing pain. As I writhe, I drag around a trail of blood that stains the dirt a dark maroon. I look at it, panicked. I can feel a deep slice in my flesh.

I-I think I landed on the knife when I fell.

God, it hurts. It hurts real, real bad.

The walker hisses like a feral cat.

My fingers slide against its slippery, bloody skin as I grapple with it, kicking, kicking, kicking its stomach, and hitting, hitting, hitting its chest. The skin comes apart as easily as layers of lasagna. It peels off and falls onto my bare neck — Oh my God, yuck, yuck, yuck! — and my fingers sink deeper into the soft meat underneath. Cold, red sludge drips down onto my cheek. I turn, squirm; clamp my mouth shut. I use all my might to keep the walker's weight offa me, but I can't keep this up forever.

The knife. Where's the knife?

I dropped it somewhere.

I throw my hand out and feel around for the knife. My arm buckles under the walker, which drops closer to my face, growling and twitching just an inch from my nose. That's a leaf. That's a twig. That's the tin. Come on, come on. The knife. I need the knife.

I squeal when my foot suddenly breaks through the walker's belly.

Slimy entrails slide down my leg.

I moan miserably.

That's a twig.

That's another twig.

That's— 

That's a knife hilt.

I wrap my fingers around it.

I have to kill this thing now.

With a violence I don't recognise, I swing the knife all the way down into the base of the walker's neck and then again, and again, and again, and again, again, again, in the collarbone, and the cheek, and the throat, and the shoulder, and then the soft membrane of the under-jaw, which splits open like a water balloon and splatters me with more sticky blood, like cold, chunky soup, and again, again, and again, in the chin, and the nose, and the forehead, but not the brain, 'cause the skull is just too thick to break through. I think about all the times I've heard of skulls breaking, like in car crashes, and I think, why can't you break again, just break now. I drive it into the scalp, again, again, again, but it doesn't work. You gotta stick it in the brain, Harley. I gotta get the brain. I gotta.

The meat hanging from the walker's jaw vibrates as it gurgles at me.

"Come on!" I grind out, losing my strength.

This is when somebody like Rick or Dad or Shane would step in and end it for me, in this moment right before death, but nobody's here to save me this time. I have to save me.

I cry out once more.

The knife squelches through the walker's eye socket.

I drive it deeper and deeper and deeper, until the blade reaches the sweet spot, and pink brain-slime comes leaking out. I twist it and I twist it and I twist it, forcing the razor-edge up into the socket, until the hilt starts to disappear, until my hand starts to disappear. Until— 

Until the walker gives out one last croak.

It slumps over into the dirt.

It's dead.

I scramble away, clutching the knife, shaking.

My first walker kill. It weren't nothin' like killing a damn squirrel, not even a little bit, not by a mile. It ain't squeaked. The damn thing squelched. It had layers of skin and meat and bone and cartilage, and I felt them all with my bare hands, and I killed it.

I killed it all on my own.

"I killed you." I laugh, elated. "I killed you! Fuck you!"

Hell yeah!

My side suddenly pangs again, making me groan.

I peel my bloody shirt back.

"Oh, God."

It's a gash, alright. I won the fight, but now I'm gonna have to drag myself through the woods, alone, with this crippling wound in my side. I groan as I take off my shirt. It's still wet. It's bloody, too, now, so I throw it away. As my vision blots, I pick up a new one off the ground and lethargically pull it on, wanting so badly all of a sudden to just lay down and go to sleep. I can barely keep my eyes open.

I cradle my side as I stand.

Chunks of walker-flesh fall off my leg.

There's blood in my hair, on my face, on my neck, on my hands.

I look around for Matilda, 'cause even though I'm about to faint, I know I don't wanna leave her behind. Sophia needs her. I find the doll laying by the fire and pick her up, leaving behind a bright red hand-print on her pretty tartan dress by accident.

"Oh," I pant, shaking my head. "I'm sorry."

"Red and go-old! Red and go-old!"

I hug Matilda to my chest.

"It's okay. Carol will wash it."

The radio continues singing its happy tune as I stagger away.

The hours blend together in a long, hot slurry of sweat, heat, and blood. Barely conscious, I stumble alongside the stream, holding my bleeding side. I have to be close, by now. I've been walking for hours. I focus on my breathing. I focus on walking. I focus on keeping the setting sun on my left shoulder, to ensure I'm headed North. I think I can hear church bells ringing through the forest at some point, but I'm not sure.

It's all so confusing.

Next thing I know, my knees are hitting the ground.

It takes me a while to figure it out, but I realize that I've fallen down a small slope and landed in a watery ditch filled with reeds.

Cold water trickles silently past my hot skin.

I gaze up at the orange sky.

It's nice here. It's so nice here.

I let my exhaustion seduce me into closing my eyes.

I need rest.

I can... I can rest for a minute.

"You don't gotta follow me out here, man."

"I know."

When I open my eyes, woken by the sound of voices, it's night-time again. I must've slept for a long time. My entire side aches when I roll onto my back, trying to see what's going on up there. Through the thin shoots of grass, I glimpse a band of white flashlight illuminating the distant trees.

Those— Those voices. I'd recognise them anywhere. It's my Dad and Rick.

I listen to their foot-steps crunch through the underbrush with a grin on my face.

"You can't drag me back to the highway, so yer gonna babysit me instead? That it?"

"Well, you know I'd prefer you get some rest, like everyone else." Rick replies. Never thought I'd say it, but it's so good to hear his stupid voice. "Trying to, at least. We've been searching non-stop, for I don't even know how long. We can't afford anyone else gettin' lost out here, especially in the dark. Even Shane settled down, eventually, and you know how he's been."

I hear Dad scoff. "Yeah, well, there's no way I'm takin' a fuckin' granny nap while my daughter's lost in the woods."

"Trust me, I'm done tryna convince you. Hence, the babysitting."

"To Hell with Shane, anyway, man." Dad says. "Don't need him out here."

"What the deal between you two, anyway?"

"Whatchu mean?"

"I mean, look at you. Shane gave you a black eye today. He wouldn't do that for no reason."

"Yeah," Dad sighs tiredly, "Well, I gave him a broken nose, and I wouldn't do that for no reason, neither, so think about that."

A black eye?

A broken nose?

They did get into a fight today.

"Okay, I'll think about it. I'll think about it aloud, even." Rick concedes. My Dad huffs but lets him continue speaking. "Since you joined us, you and Shane have avoided each other like the plague. You work well together — I've seen it — but as people, you don't get along so great. That's how it used to be. Suddenly — As in, this is the first time I'm seein' this — You're throwin' hands for no reason, in the middle of the night. Black eye, broken nose. I mean— Well, it just don't make any sense to me, is all I'm saying. Like I said, Shane ain't like this, usually."

"You must not know your buddy so well, then." Dad retorts. "'Cause he's a piece of work."

"Oh, no denyin' that." Rick chuckles flatly. "But I don't know why you're so insistent on buttin' heads right now. Especially right now."

"Hey." My Dad's voice gets louder. "I'm out here right now, runnin' on two hours'a sleep with a busted face and a fucked-up eye, combing these woods for my lil' girl — Who if I recall right, is lost 'cause of your fuckin' super-plan — So don't go tellin' me I ain't got my priorities straight, man. If I beat Shane up, it's 'cause he fuckin' deserved it. You heard the shit he said t'me, you would'a done the same. Father to father, I know that."

"H— What? What'd he say to you?"

"He said it's my fault Harley's out here." Dad snarls. "Said I don't protect her right. Said I ain't a good father to her."

Rick stammers. "Wow. That's both... way outta line, and not true at all. He's got no right to say those things."

That makes Dad almost laugh.

"Nah, man." He scoffs. "Nah, you don't know."

Nobody knows. Nobody besides me, Shane, and my Dad knows about what happened at the CDC.

"I do know." Rick insists, oblivious. "No, I'm bein' serious here. Listen. I've seen you with her. You'd do anythin' do protect her. 'Sides, you said it yourself. You're out here right now, even when others aren't — Even when it jeopardizes your own safety. A lesser man, lemme tell ya, would not be out here in the state you're in. I don't even know how you're still standin', to be honest."

Dad brushes him off. "Nah, you don't get it. It's not— It ain't about that."

"What's it about, then? 'Cause from where I'm standing, I— I honestly struggle to see what Shane's talkin' about."

"Wait."

Their foot-steps come to a sudden stop.

I hold my breath.

"Those are new tracks." My Dad mutters.

My eyes widen.

"You think it's—?"

"It's Harley." He says definitively. "Look. This set go South. This set's comin' our way. She's been following her own tracks back."

There's a pause, like they're shell-shocked and can't quite speak.

Yes. Yes, I have been followin' my own tracks. I slept in a ditch, and I walked for hours, and I killed my first walker and stabbed myself, and then I walked some more, and I'm tired. I'm so, so tired. I can't wait to go home. I can't wait to go back to the group. I can't wait to sleep with a proper pillow and blanket. I hear Dad and Rick's foot-steps suddenly kick back up again, and more of their hushed, intense voices, becoming louder and louder as they follow my most recent tracks. I hear foliage bein' trodden on and snapped. I hear my Dad calling out, Harley, baby, we're here, where are you, and then, finally, after two long days, I see their faces.

I can't believe it.

We've found each other.

As they skirt down the hill, calling my name, I slip back into unconsciousness.

The next morning, I'm woken by sunlight dancing across my closed lids. There's a soft pillow under my head. I feel heavy blankets wrapped around my aching body, and new change of dry clothes rubbing against my skin. I'm warm, and finally, I'm safe. When I open my eyes, groaning lightly, I'm greeted with the blurry sight of the RV bedroom, draped in yellow morning light.

Rick and my Dad must've carried me here last night.

I hear someone moving to my left.

"Daddy—?"

"It's me." Shane says, sitting up. Oh. I look up at him as he reaches for my hair, tucking some behind my ear. "You're okay."

My side pangs suddenly, making me groan again.

I lift up the covers, and then my shirt, revealing a patch of fresh bandages taped to my waist.

Shane shushes me. "Hey, easy."

They cleaned it up pretty good. There's only a small flower of blood stained through the cotton-y material.

"Hurts," I croak, closing my eyes.

"I bet." Shane soothes. "You got stitches under there."

I open them again. "Stitches?"

"Yeah. It's okay. You were in pretty gnarly shape when we gotcha; gash is real deep. Jacqui made quick work of it, though." He says, smiling lightly. "Nothin' we can do about the bug bites. Just gonna have to put up with 'em for now, but you're tough. I know you can do it."

Exhaling thinly, I slowly nod.

I take a minute to look at Shane like this.

A strip of white gauze is plastered over the bridge of his nose, which sits on an awkward, crooked angle. He notices me starin', but doesn't make me look away. He doesn't explain how it got broken, though, either. He just strokes my hair, letting me come to my own conclusions.

"Dad hit you." I whisper, stating it as a fact.

I heard Rick say so, last night.

Me and Shane have barely talked since that day in the parking lot. It's strange to say that we're friends, now, but we are.

He pulls his hand away. "Who told you that?"

I shrug.

He frowns lightly, eventually nodding. "Yeah, he did."

"You hit him back."

Again, he simply says, "Yeah, I did."

I could ask him why, but I already know that, too.

As the silence stretches on, his gaze drifts from my face, down to the floor. He leans forward to pick something up. It's Matilda. They brought her back, too. He holds her for a minute, looking over her orange hair and her green dress — Still covered in my blood — and then he hands her to me, muttering that she fell off the bed during the night. He watches me hug the doll to my chest with a distant sort of look in his eye. I wonder if he feels guilty, but he's prolly just tired. I heard Rick say they were searching for me non-stop these past two days, and that includes Shane.

It looks like he stayed awake all night, too, waiting by my bedside, which for some reason, my Dad didn't.

"Let me get you somethin' to eat." Shane murmurs.

He stands to leave, squeezing past Carol on his way out.

She stands in the doorway, looking at me with tender, puffy eyes. She glances at Matilda. I think she's been crying.

"You found Sophia's doll?" She asks me quietly.

Yeah, I did. I nod.

She comes to sit beside me on the bed, smiling weakly.

"May I?"

I hand her the doll.

"I'm sorry I got blood on it." I mutter. "It was an accident."

She shakes her head, breathing shakily.

"Don't be sorry, sweetie. We're just glad you made it back to us in one piece."

"Can I give her back to Sophia now?"

Carol takes a deep breath. "I don't think you can. Not right now."

Oh. "Why not?"

"Because, sweetie," Carol says, placing a little kiss on Matilda's cheek, and then facing me again, on the brink of tears, "After you were able to escape into the forest — After the herd passed — Sophia ran after you." That makes my eyes widen. Sophia ran after me? Into the woods? Carol purses her lips, so tight it must be painful. "Yes. Your Dad, Rick, Shane — They were already chasing after you, but Sophia just wouldn't give up. Sh— She broke away from me before I could catch her, and we— We haven't seen her since. We haven't seen her. We haven't."

Carol breaks down into squeaky, tiny sobs, clutching the doll to her forehead.

I don't know what to say. I had no idea that the whole time I was missing, Sophia was missing, too.

"I— I found the doll in the creek." I say, feeling unhelpful. "I don't know where exactly, but... In the creek."

Carol nods. "Thank you. Thank you, sweetie. I'll tell them."

"I'm sorry."

I'm sorry I can't help more. I didn't see any other signs of Sophia out there.

Sophia, lost and alone, just like I was — Except Sophia's never learnt how to find North. Sophia's never learnt which plants are safe to eat, or how to out-run a walker. She doesn't know how to start a fire from nothin', or how to wring a rabbit's neck. She doesn't know the stuff I know.

She doesn't have the same chances that I had, which were pretty darn low to begin with.

Carol puts her hand on my knee. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Harley."

"I— I wanna look for her."

"You can't." She soothes. "You're hurt."

"Sophia might be hurt."

"Nobody's gonna let you look," Carol tells me, "So there's no point in arguing. You know, your Dad has been worried sick about you this whole time. He pretended he wasn't, but it was obvious. He didn't care about anything other than finding you. I saw him maybe one or two times these past couple days, because he's been in those woods for hours on end. Dale's been blaming himself for letting the herd get to us while he was distracted. Shane's been... a mess. Then, last night, your Dad and Rick came running back to the highway with you, and they were barely hanging on. They were covered in mud, in blood — Your blood — in sticks, leaves, scratches. They ran with you for five miles, Harley." Carol frowns. "It's a miracle you're with us. Trust me when I say nobody's letting you back out there anytime soon."

I lower my head, fiddling with the blanket seams.

Carol changes the subject by gently asking, "What happened out there?"

I look up at her.

"I... I just kept walking, I guess."

That's all I did. I walked, and walked, and walked. I wonder if that's what Sophia's doing.

"And I killed one of the dead people."

I can still feel his cold flesh sliding against mine, and how he smelt like old steak.

Carol stiffens.

"Sophia prolly won't run into any." I shake my head. "There was only one."

"Where there's one," She whispers, "There's a hundred."

I stay quiet.

Shane comes back in through the door, holding a bottle of water and some snacks.

"Here you go, sweetheart," He says to me under his breath. "Gotta eat if you want your strength back."

I take the yoghurt-granola bar and the packet of pretzels, but the thought of eating makes my stomach churn. 

"Where's my Dad?" I ask instead.

He's the first person I expected to see when I woke up.

"He's still out looking." Carol answers, sighing. "After he found you, I thought I would've had to beg him to look for Sophia, but I didn't. He went on his own. I'm sure it's nothing, sweetie. He's just worried about Sophia, just like we all are, and he's going to find her. I know it."

My Dad's never shown concern for anyone other than his blood. I don't think he's as worried about Sophia as Carol thinks he is, 'cause I know him better than she does. I think back to the conversation I heard last night, and how my Dad almost admitted to Rick the reason he and Shane haven't been seein' eye to eye recently — Almost admitted to hitting me. I wish he would talk to me about it, instead of Rick, but that's not how my Dad operates. I know why he's still out in those woods. He's doin' anything he can to keep avoiding talking to me about the CDC, especially after the beating Shane gave him.

A wake-up call, is what it's called, I think. Shane gave him a wake-up call. Dad's bein' challenged, for the first time in his life.

Shane looks at me. I can tell he knows exactly what I'm thinking. He knows I've figured it out — Figured him out.

"I thought I told you not to help."

Shane goes still.

He glances at Carol, who frowns in confusion.

"What do you mean?" She asks me.

Please don't help, I begged him that day, Please don't do nothin'. Our conversation got cut off when Dale interrupted us, but I wish it hadn't. I wish I made myself more clear. Shane established that I'm allowed to be his friend, but he ain't established my Dad bein' the scum of the Earth, like I know he wants to. He prolly convinced my Dad that's what he is, which is why he's guilty, but he won't convince me. I'll be his friend, but I don't need this.

"I told you not to help." I repeat, a little harsher. "But you hit him, anyway."

"I— I did." Shane calmy nods. "After he swung at me — Broke my nose — I had to subdue him. I had to hit him back."

What a load of crap, I want to argue, You prolly hit him first.

"The fight?" Carol tilts her head. "How did you hear about that?"

I tear my eyes away from Shane's.

"Right before Dad and Rick found me, I heard 'em talkin'." I tell her truthfully. "Rick said Dad has a black eye, now."

"He does." Carol hums. "But you shouldn't worry about it. It's just men bein' men. Right, Shane?"

We both look at him expectantly.

"That's right." He agrees, tense. He's lucky Carol's so clueless, and just gave him an out. He claps his hands. "Now, how 'bout you try gettin' some'a that stuff down, and I'll see if I can't getchu some dessert for afterwards? Maybe a cookie, for our tough little cookie, here, huh?"

Carol smiles warmly. "One tough cookie, alright. Dragged yourself all the way back here with that gash in your side."

I try to smile back. "Uh-huh."

"Alright, then. Let's give her some space." Shane says.

Carol stands, tucking Matilda in besides me with great care. She strokes the doll's hair, and then mine. She even gives my cheek a kiss.

Shane nods her out the door.

After she leaves, he lingers there.

"You told me we could color together." He randomly reminds me. "I reckon I wanna take you up on that offer, later, if that's alright wit'chu."

Oh. He does? This is the first time he's brought this up since I decided he could be my friend, which I told him meant he could color with me, and do my hair, and play games with me. I don't know why he's decided so suddenly that he wants to do this. Maybe it's because my Dad is away.

I think about it for a time, but then I nod.

I don't see the harm in coloring.

Slowly, I nod.

He grins a little.

"I'll send Jacqui in to have a look atcher side in a little while." He says, before nodding, seemingly pleased. "Alright. See ya later, Harley."

"See ya later."

I hear him walk away.

Shane's got a way of makin' me like him, even when I don't wanna.

After I force down three bites of the granola bar, I lay back down, pulling the blankets up to my chin.

Matilda stares back at me with her giant button eyes.

"I'm sorry, Sophia." I murmur.

A short while later, I get a visitor.

"Somebody has a present for you." Lori sing-songs quietly as she guides a nervous-looking Carl into the bedroom. He clutches a large canvas bag to his chest, squeezing it tightly like a teddy-bear. There's a slight sunburn underneath his freckles, and a scab on his eyebrow, but he made it out of the herd just like everyone else did. I don't know Carl so well, but I'm real glad he's alright. I think he's sad about Sophia, and sad about me, too, 'cause his eyes begin to water the longer he stares at me. Lori rubs his back. "Off you go, baby."

He takes slow, calculated steps toward me, and stops about a foot away from the bed.

I notice him glancing at Matilda.

I tell him, "I'm gonna keep her until we can give her back to Sophia."

'Cause we're gonna find her. We're gonna.

He sniffles, nodding.

He likes that idea.

"I— I kept something for you, too." He sniffles. "While you were missing."

Lori hurries over to help me sit up properly, as Carl sits on the edge of the bed.

He carefully places the heavy bag over my lap.

I lay my hands down on it, feeling it out. It's hard. It's kinda crinkly. I look up at Carl, excitedly smiling at what I think is inside.

He's smilin', too, now. "Open it."

He scoots closer as I flip the bag open.

I laugh.

"No way! You got it!"

It's the Pokémon folder, in all its sparkly, yellow glory. The blood on the cover has been wiped away. It looks almost brand-new again, untouched by the horrors of that deadly afternoon. On the name-tag sticker, which was previously blank, is now written in bulky but neat letters, Harly Dikson.

"I had to ask your Dad how to spell your name." Carl says. "But he wouldn't answer. I hope I got it right."

Carl's never been good at spelling. The thought makes me laugh even harder.

Suddenly, I'm hugging him.

He hugs me back.

"He's been very eager to give those back to you." Lori smiles, her hip cocked as she watches on fondly. "He even slept with 'em the first night."

Carl pulls back. "Mo-om!"

She holds her hands up. "Sorry. Embarrassing?"

"It's okay." I giggle. I pull the Lugia card out of my pocket and show it to him. "I did, too."

He gets immediately excited again. "Woah! Another GX card!"

"Yep!"

"Here we go." Lori rolls her eyes.

We spend about half an hour going through the cards and snacking on pretzels together on the bed.

It's as we're on the last page that Lori gently takes hold of my shoulder.

"Harley," She says to me, "I know you're both having fun here, but I think it's time we all got together and... talked about what happened to you in those woods... Okay? We all think it's a good idea. We've been waiting to know ever since you got back, and... Carol says you killed a walker." She smiles tightly. "Would you like to go speak to us about everything? Get it off your chest? Maybe... help us piece everything together?"

I get the sense I don't got a choice in this. They need to understand what I went through; what signs of Sophia I came across.

She senses my answer, and stands, urging Carl out the door.

No more Pokémon cards. 

Time to talk about Jim, and the stabbing, and the church bells, and everything else I endured in those Hellish woods.

I just wish my Dad would come back.

Author's Note. For some reason, I ssssstruggled with this chapter. Like, a lot. It's always the most random chapters that seem to kick my ass. Maybe it's because Harley was alone for the majority of it. I tried to make it interesting, nonetheless.

And here is the beginning of Sophia's whole shtick 🫥

Thank you for your patience, and I really hope you enjoyed reading this one!! <3

#the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon daughter #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daddy issues #rick grimes #shane walsh #angst #fanfic #reader #ao3 fanfic

[deconstructthesoup]

Fantasy High Adventure Time AU: Gods

Yeah, yeah, I'm coming back to this. I should probably start linking everything, but, uh, well... here.

Arthur Aguefort: The man radiates Magic Man energy, I dunno what to tell ya. He's not as sadistic as Magic Man is in canon at first, but he's still an agent of chaos who does what he wants without a lot of regard for others. Ayda is still his daughter, the result of a very brief and spicy affair with the Fire Queen, and he's not strictly a Martian---rather, a human from days past who made it to Mars and achieved immortality. Arthur eventually had to flee to Earth after causing a gigantic ruckus on Mars, and he still feels a lot of guilt from his past mistakes... but it'll take time for him to actually do something about it.

Tectonya Karkovnia: The ruler of Mars and a technical goddess, Tectonya initially welcomed Arthur Aguefort onto Mars, and the two became fast friends. However, once he started delving deeper into his magic-induced madness and fully lost it after a desperate attempt to harness incredible magic to reverse the effects of the Mushroom war, she fully cut ties with him. Now, she's ruling alone, and while she's worshiped heavily on Earth, Tectonya's really just an incredibly overworked person trying to run an entire planet. She may have almost all of the knowledge in the galaxy, but it's still a struggle.

Kalina: Known as the Cosmic Cat, Kalina frequently appears in people's dreams, and her presence is a clear sign that the dream will eventually come true. She's a lot craftier and classier than the Cosmic Owl, though when she speaks in dreams, she's still very blunt about what they mean ("meow, you're a sociopath," "ya blew it, kid," ect). Kalina's essentially your cool aunt who's probably into some shady shit, and she takes her job seriously... for the most part.

Cassandra: She has the mantle of the Wishmaster and is largely regarded as one of the chillest cosmic entities in the multiverse. They're best friends with Kalina and eventually Kristen---kicked off by the first time the Questing Trio came to the Time Room and the discovery that Kristen could use Wish Magic---and has almost a million niche hobbies to fill their admittedly vast spare time. One of those hobbies happens to be writing, and she's made a... sorta incognito world. It manifests as Aelwyn's genderbent fanfiction. Not the most original thing, but they're proud of it.

Gorthalax: Surprisingly, the almighty ruler of the Nightosphere, blessed with the power to devour souls, is a pretty chill and easygoing dude. Over the centuries, he's made several efforts to try and reconnect with Fig---who, for the most part, isn't really having it---and his attempts at reaching her through Adaine has led him to develop a friendship with Penny, who's somehow made friends with every single dark cosmic entity in existence. When Gorthalax isn't managing the Nightosphere, he's either participating in crazy underground fighting matches or rocking it out with Death, and that's pretty much how he likes it. Fig doesn't admit that she thinks that's cool.

Talura: She exists in a null void outside of everything, embodying all that is chaos and discord. But despite the fact that summoning her is a one-way ticket to an apocalypse, there is a consciousness in there, and underneath the frightening exterior and uncontrollable powers is someone who is just plain tired with her role. She wants people to understand that chaos shouldn't mean ruin and destruction, but after one too many times attempting to use her godlike abilities for good and failing, she's resigned herself to being the harbinger of desolation and All That Is Evil. Talura never asked to have the power to cast people to oblivion, yet that was the hand that she was given... and as long as she stays in her void, nothing will come of it. Unless someone's stupid enough to summon her.

The Nightmare King: Purely because they give off identical vibes and look almost exactly alike, I separated the Nightmare King off from Cassandra and made them the Lich. Really, nothing else to add---they're just the Lich with a different name.

Okay, one thing to add---when they're eventually defeated by Guardian Blood and turned into a baby, Kristen names them Lil' Cass (in honor of Cassandra, who at the time was briefly dead) and the Questing Trio gives them to the Thistlesprings to raise. So, yeah, Gorgug has a little sibling who used to be a being of pure evil.

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #fantasy high adventure time au #arthur aguefort #tectonya karkovnya #kalina #cassandra fantasy high #gorthalax the insatiable #talura #the nightmare king

[miscellaneous--bones]

some world building of how crow's landing, yk, the world's planet or whatever first came to be

gonna put my rambles under a cut <3

so planets come from stars that give off a lot of air (because. these kindsa stars produce air. you can kind of breathe in space, like not really enough to breathe for very long, but yk you can be out there for a little bit.) anyway when a star gives off too much air too quickly eventually it'll build up and make an atmosphere, which will then cool the star enough to make a planet.

in crow's landing's case, it was the first planet to ever be created. the star in its self sort of lives on as the planet's core, it also keeps it heated seeing as nebula is much smaller than it (it can still affectily light it up, though, and make the day/night cycle, etc) but it also creates the aurora borealis in the tundra

that should also be explained, there are three 'mainlands' in the planet, the first and biggest is crow's landing, the taiga/foresty area that we all know and love. the other one is the tundra which is an entire land in cased in snow and cold (said to be caused because its at a spot where Nebula's light doesnt reach as much [nebula orbits around the actual planet, instead of the other way around]) and the last one is a land over come by fungi, some of which became sentient and even moved to other lands. there are some mushrooms that grow there that reach past the atmosphere.

uh, there are also 3 moons, the blood moon, the blue moon, and the harvest moon. the harvest moon also has a moonmoon called worm. blood is deep red, blue is blue, harvest is golden yellow, and worm is pink.

they orbit at different speeds- harvest tends to orbit real slow and last a couple months over each island and leaves the rest of the year. it's said to reflect the light of borealis and gives off it's own so you can always see it and worm in full.

I'm not so sure about blue and blood? i think these two usually orbit in tandem, same kind of deal with the real world earth's moon. sometimes though, one will show without the other (whether this is because of clouds, lighting, or just their tracks not matching up for once is unknown) and at this point theres two different ways it could go.

it its blue without blood, then thats like the night where you can't use the saying "once in a blue moon" because its very rare and thats also when weird things happen. (extra note, blue also can sometimes give off its own light, it isnt as solid as the other two and especially when its alone it will give the world an eerie blue glow for that night, blood does this too but thats because of it's color reacting to nebula's light)

when blood is alone it tends to be seen as a kind of bad omen? its said that when the blood moon is lone in the sky that means the hunt is out, which is similar to the wild hunt which you can learn about [in this video by overly sarcastic productions, if you'd like] (basically its a fuck load of ghosts in a big mob that are stuck in an eternal chase. whatever their prey is- if truly anything- is unknown.)

anyway, the hunt in this world is a ghostly hunting party, chasing any light left over from borealis that they can find (the light sometimes takes the form of wolf or fox like beasts, usually just called the Beasts of Light but sometimes also called Auroras) they also pick up any lost souls that have escaped Six Under, or otherwise havn't yet been found or collected by a reaper. you'd prolly think that the souls would join the hunting party- hell, some do choose to stay- but they are usually dropped of at death's door with a bag of gold and a pelt or two. the group is very pleasant to travelers.

as nice as they are, though, they do tend to mistake live people as lost souls which can sometimes result in temporary ''death'' where Will will have to bring the soul back to the body in the morning. in other words, its best that if a blood moon rises that you stay indoors.

i think thats all i had to say? i've been thinking about this stuff a lot and come up with a whole nother concept that i still gotta flesh out and make designs for so that might be coming soon.

#these types of posts are nice because i make up half of it on the spot #that whole bit about the hunt i made up because i knew i wanted blood moons to be ominous but i didnt know how until i was typing it #and then i remembered that video #thats also why it takes like half an hour to type them out tho #oh well #anyway kamvas comes tomorrow fuck yeahhhh #im going to bed see yall tomorrow with my fancy new tablet love yall good nightttt #world building #doodles

[sarcasm-loathing-blog]

⋅⊱♊∂σทτ τrυsτ нєr ƒαcα∂є♊⊰⋅

⋅⊱♊qυєsτiσทiทg i∂єทτiτiєs♊⊰⋅

She stumbled in as another strong gust of wind pushed her into the building, the left double door caving in and flinging open, banging against the wall. The sudden slam echoed into the living room and empty space, causing her to grimace and scramble to close the door. So much for stealthy.

The chilling sounds of an oh so familiar cartoon reached her ears. She averted her gaze to a nearby wall as she shut and locked the door behind her, feeling the harsh breeze rattling the doorknob as she did so. She could hear the show, but at the same time she could somehow still see the up and down jerky mouth movements of the ship on the screen, that horrible horrible laugh. She had a bad rep with the show, having watched one episode as a kid, that kind of cut cable from her family forever. It was just a fucking show, but dear god it was sickening, especially the character, the skin taker. His mouth movements weren't particularly pleasing, he grinded his teeth left to right instead of the normal way a puppet should, up and down.

After her silent and short lived panic cooled down, she brushed herself off like something had stuck to her whilst she had made her way to the mansion, that wasn't the case, every hair was in place, not a single thing had ruined her appearance, because she was perfect. She strived to be the embodiment of perfection.

Ever so casually, she heaved the heavy backpack off of her shoulders before slinging it onto one of the rings of the sturdy coat rack, testing the stability before letting go and turning her head towards the three or so figures hanging on the couch, watching-that show. It should be static to her by now, right? Right?

She narrowed her eyes at the characters, trying to identify them with what little light shed onto their figures from the soft luminescent glow of the screen, then-it clicked. Sideburns, Ashy, and Goggles McGhee. Three of whom she didn't exactly interact with-well, what do you expect, with the higharchy of this damned mansion, you would be a fool to even glance at the musketeers with what authority they had. She began to back away, her clammy hands folding together as a possible comfort technique.

They all seemed fixated on the small retro TV, she often wondered how the hell they got cable and electricity all the way out here, she's made a theory that there was some sort of electrical system only for pastas or something, but its an extremely weak theory. She rolled her eyes and silently scoffed, uninterested in the activity. Its safe to say she hasn't watched TV in a while, 5 years at best, considering her RV just barely has electricity, she doesn't need a TV-well, she wish she had one, sort of.

Sideburns, or Masky, to others, sat with him. It would be foolish to address a proxy as an equal, she had a silent respect for them both, strong powerful beings whom don't have to slave away with a broom every day. They're living the life-well, not exactly. She was one who was allowed to remember her past life, give or take she had succumbed to the fact she had no hope of returning to it in the future.

Suddenly, as quick as a crack of lightening, Ashy turned his head away from the screen, the black endless orbs of the mask peering into the darkness, she heard a deep inhale. What was it doing? She deemed him it for just a moment, his movements so animalistic you could actually feel the wild like aura he held. Oh god, his gaze had directed om her. He made a movement with his hand, seeming to slap Sideburns on the shoulder with the back of his hand, causing Sideburns to startle a bit before glancing back over his shoulder. Well, this is-she didn't know what to call it. Disturbing? Unnerving? She didn't like the position she was in, then-Ashy began to rise from the couch, he began to speak-there was a raspy undertone in his voice, like he doesn't use it a lot, something seemed to creep from his words, something slimy and black with a bunch of tiny legs.

"Who are you."

It seemed more like a demand then a question, she flinched on instinct as she felt eyes almost immediately peer towards her in the darkness.

"Your dad, im back with cigs"

Ashy seemed to be narrowing his eyes-or lack of, definitely lack of, on her. She swollowed the hard forming lump in her throat as she tried to turtle into her clothes, seemingly phased by the cold glare that the being was somehow directing at her.

She froze in place, only then realizing that she was backing away, the heels of her boots scuffing the peeling yellowed hideously wallpapered wall behind her as she drew her arms to her chest, her head lowering to cover her neck in case the figure went for a punch to her throat. How does someone answer that?

"Hey, my name is Trinity, im the fucking maid who washes the skid marks from your undies, good luck holding a proper conversation with me because the only thing I want to talk about is how fucking horrible my job is, I hadn't had proper social interaction in, like 5 years!"

Yea, that would totally work, her hand slid into her coat, fingering the Browning high power 9 mm pistol that bounced at her hip. It gave her a raw sense of empowerment, like she was a ring leader, and Eyeless jack was a lion.

"My name is Trinity. I clean up around here, I usually do it at night, but I had something to do last night and never had to opportunity."

She was mildly impressed by the steady dull flat tone she used and how she was able to speak over a mumble. She didn't get to cocky yet, how would they believe her? Did she have to whip out her bottle of Windex and cleaning rags?

"That's a nice name."

Masky was a little unamused by the female. Sure, he may not of seen her before, but no, she doesn't faze him. He blinked slowly, then looked over at Jack. Look, it'll be pretty sad seeing this gremlin of a woman try and fail to fight this hulking figure, so he decided to give her a hand and take her word for it. Most creatures couldn't pass through the mushroom circle anyways.

His voice sounded deep, as though he hasn't slept for a couple of centuries, with a bit of a smokers cough. He didn't introduce himself, who cares for casualties? His gaze darted towards Goggles McGhee , instead of soaking the drama in, the male was leaning forward, fixated on the static covered screen as if it was the most engrossing morning cartoon he's ever watched. Sideburns rolled his eyes underneath the black opaque fabric covering the eyeholes of his mask before glancing back at the gorl.

She pursed her lips together, her eyebrows knitting in confusion as the words had rolled around in her mind, slowly peacing together into a sentence, a little lightbulb finally flicked on inside her mind as she nodded slowly. "Thank you-?" It seemed more like a question, its been a while since she actually-got a compliment, you know? Because she was the embodiment of loneliness.

Ashy, on the other hand, would need a bit more convincing. If he could, he would have already tackled her to the ground and ripped out her spine from her still squirming soon to be corpse, but something was nagging him in the back of his mind, something was telling him that maybe she was telling the truth. He ignored that tiny thought, his hand sliding into the grey worn and bleach stained hoodie he adorned before fingering the warm smooth metal of the blade. It felt alive, due to how his body tempature was keeping it warm.

"I smell bullcrap."

"It's probably your upper lip."

Her gaze adverted back to Ashy, a frown tugging on her lips as she cocked her head. "Well, im sorry to hear that, would you like me to elaborate?" She held a snarky comment on the back of her tongue, it pressed against her teeth, struggling to push out before she heard the soft thump of a stuffed toy hitting a step and the pats of tiny feet hitting the smooth floorboards of the second story hall. There was a flash of a dirty salmon color in the corner of her eye before it dissapeared, She couldn't keep one eye on jack and the other on the toy, so she kept her eyes on jack, but did address the toys presence for future reference.

Jack turned his head, listening in-a giggle erupted from the hallway, high pitched and playful. Sally. Ashy couldn't see Sally, also known as button eyes-but he could smell her. She always smelt of letting meat and sugar cookies. His defensive attitude kicked in as he gripped his scalpel in a vice-like grip, bristling like an angry cat at this point “I don’t know who you are, but you don’t belong here, if you worked here over night then I'd at least would have picked up your scent.” he growled, his heart rate picking up.

His chest hurt, the goop kept streaming from his sockets, he felt his headache lightly at the back of his skull as he rolled his shoulders.

"Well, if you were able to smell me, then you'd possibly be able to smell yourself and take a bath for once, news flash-you reek of death."

The words left her mouth before she could comprehend what was happening, she mentally struggled to shovel them back down her gaping maw before it was too late, a flash of regret misted her eyes, but it was true, even from here, she could smell the rotting flesh interlaced between with teeth and underneath his nails. This seemed to silently enrage him. "Look-you, do I need to prove it? This place would be a fucking dump without me." She jabbed her thumb into her chest, her eyes narrowed into an ice spiked glare, she was going all out with this.

She felt angry, frustrated, scared, etc.... Why the hell was she even having this argument in the first place? It was clear that this person was insignificant and unimportant-no, that's not true, that's definitely not true, they were important, they were strong, they could kill her.

Sideburns looked back and forth to who was talking. The conversation was going nowhere, the two only threw threats at one another whilst also trying to gain the upper ground, it was aggravating. He blinked hard, almost shed a tear, but he's extremely dehydrated. His tiredness was getting the best of him, which is a bad thing in this situation.

"Look, how about we let her go, besides, she cleans. I mean, it's like arguing with a janitor, you're not going anywhere if they speak Spanish."

She was tempted to gasp melodramatically, how dare he compare her to a janitor-but she didn't, she kept silent, ever so slowly closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose to suppress the oncoming headache. Dear lord, save her soul, she didn't ask for this, she didn't ask for this job, it just came to her. In all honesty, she wanted to crawl into a ball and dissapear into a black endless void, she was edgy like that-no, she actually wanted to be home. She wanted to be back at home before she had moved away from college, back with her mom and three brothers, as they danced in the bare widely spaced living room to music. Those were the good times, before she changed her hair and begun to wear eyeliner and smoke pot. Before she met all her horrible wreckless teenage friends, back when she was as free as a bird.

Ashy then, at the last moment, reconsidered before  forcing himself to put his weaponry away back into the hoodie pocket it had previously resided in, such a shame he couldn’t use it today.

“If you make one wrong move or even lay a finger on Sally you won’t be so lucky...” he said with a snarl.

Jack turned his back to the woman with one final glance before turning back and giving his sleeve a sniff, even through his mask he could smell how horrid the stench emitting from his body was, his nose wrinkling in disgust. She was somewhat right, he hasn't bathed in a while.

"I'm sorry, who?"

She didn't know who this "Sally" was, perhaps it was the figure that had raced away, leaving the stuffed toy behind. She felt a bit more relaxed, give or take she no longer was an antelope dangled by the bind legs above a pit full of tigers, the corner of her mouth twitched upward, almost forming a small smile before dropping.

Thank the Lord, someone changed the channel, that droning static of candle cove was enough to make her want to rip her eyes and ears out as she envied the death. She felt a bit more clumsy now, with both her actions and her words, she needed to stay sharp, at any moment, Ashy could lunge at her and plunge that tiny little weapon of his into her gut, she wasn't a fan of dying.

"Hey, I was watching that!"

Goggles McGhee flung his hands upwards a bit before shaking his head and cussing underneath his breath. Sideburns had begun to flip through channels to see what else was on besides that creepy cartoon, he eventually landed on some sort of modeling show, the clothes they wore were hideous and it seemed that 20 gallons of hair spray held each models hair in place.

After getting little to no response, she rolled her eyes and grimaced, disgusted in her own behavior, but she couldn't help but let a sense of satisfaction and entitlement seep into her as she crossed her arms. Now then, what shall she do first? She supposed cleaning the fridge out should be what she should start off with, if she survives that, the rest of her chores would seem to be mildly easy. She turned on her heel, heading towards the kitchen with the black snakey like tail dragging behind her, whipping or flicking slightly.

Once she entered the kitchen, she noticed how dark in the room it was, considering the grime on the outside windows and the blackout curtains on the inside, her hand reached up, patting along the wall for a switch as she tried to peer through the darkness. "We're back in harmony." She muttered to herself. It was a small quote from one of her favorite books she had as a young teen, a thick novel of sorts. Finally, she found the switch before flicking it upwards with one hand, almost immedietely the bright shockingly white glare of the light above caused her to hiss and squint in distain, her hands flying to her eyes to cover them as the shock of the sudden light gradually released.

Ever so slowly, she removed her hands from her eyes, dropping them to her sides and taking a moment to review the previous events and peace together what happened. Should she apologise, should she say sorry for even being there? No, she had every right to be there, you shouldn't accuse someone of being an enemy just because you don't see them on a day to day basis. She felt slightly hurt, like she was uninvited in the only work space she had.

She shook her head quickly frim side to side, her glossy dark locks bobbing around before she shuddered. "No, im not going to do that. Risky, risky-" she didn't finish her sentences per usual, how could she? Besides, it wouldn't matter if she apologised or not,  in about 4 hours or so she could head back to her RV. In 4 hours, this would be nothing, she would go back to working at night, she would go back to the silence and solitude and peace. This was a mere ripple in her pond of routine.

It was time to get to work.

[youngbloodthekilljoy]

Random asks 7, 8, 12?

at least someone cares about me i can always count on you babe

7. How do you like your eggs cooked?

overeasy

12. If _____ was gone, life wouldn’t be worth living

my best friend even if she’s in australia right now or my chorus teacher cause i’m planning his wedding and i can’t plan a wedding and a funeral at the same time

8. How many bodies are you currently hiding in your closet?

welll…i’m not supposed to say anything…but…for you…check the cut…

According to all known lawsof aviation,  there is no way a beeshould be able to fly.  Its wings are too small to getits fat little body off the ground.  The bee, of course, flies anyway  because bees don't carewhat humans think is impossible.  Yellow, black. Yellow, black.Yellow, black. Yellow, black.  Ooh, black and yellow!Let's shake it up a little.  Barry! Breakfast is ready!  Ooming!  Hang on a second.  Hello?  - Barry?- Adam?  - Oan you believe this is happening?- I can't. I'll pick you up.  Looking sharp.  Use the stairs. Your fatherpaid good money for those.  Sorry. I'm excited.  Here's the graduate.We're very proud of you, son.  A perfect report card, all B's.  Very proud.  Ma! I got a thing going here.  - You got lint on your fuzz.- Ow! That's me!  - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000.- Bye!  Barry, I told you,stop flying in the house!  - Hey, Adam.- Hey, Barry.  - Is that fuzz gel?- A little. Special day, graduation.  Never thought I'd make it.  Three days grade school,three days high school.  Those were awkward.  Three days college. I'm glad I tooka day and hitchhiked around the hive.  You did come back different.  - Hi, Barry.- Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good.  - Hear about Frankie?- Yeah.  - You going to the funeral?- No, I'm not going.  Everybody knows,sting someone, you die.  Don't waste it on a squirrel.Such a hothead.  I guess he could havejust gotten out of the way.  I love this incorporatingan amusement park into our day.  That's why we don't need vacations.  Boy, quite a bit of pomp...under the circumstances.  - Well, Adam, today we are men.- We are!  - Bee-men.- Amen!  Hallelujah!  Students, faculty, distinguished bees,  please welcome Dean Buzzwell.  Welcome, New Hive Oitygraduating class of...  ...9:15.  That concludes our ceremonies.  And begins your careerat Honex Industries!  Will we pick ourjob today?  I heard it's just orientation.  Heads up! Here we go.  Keep your hands and antennasinside the tram at all times.  - Wonder what it'll be like?- A little scary.  Welcome to Honex,a division of Honesco  and a part of the Hexagon Group.  This is it!  Wow.  Wow.  We know that you, as a bee,have worked your whole life  to get to the point where youcan work for your whole life.  Honey begins when our valiant PollenJocks bring the nectar to the hive.  Our top-secret formula  is automatically color-corrected,scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured  into this soothing sweet syrup  with its distinctivegolden glow you know as...  Honey!  - That girl was hot.- She's my cousin!  - She is?- Yes, we're all cousins.  - Right. You're right.- At Honex, we constantly strive  to improve every aspectof bee existence.  These bees are stress-testinga new helmet technology.  - What do you think he makes?- Not enough.  Here we have our latest advancement,the Krelman.  - What does that do?- Oatches that little strand of honey  that hangs after you pour it.Saves us millions.  Oan anyone work on the Krelman?  Of course. Most bee jobs aresmall ones. But bees know  that every small job,if it's done well, means a lot.  But choose carefully  because you'll stay in the jobyou pick for the rest of your life.  The same job the rest of your life?I didn't know that.  What's the difference?  You'll be happy to know that bees,as a species, haven't had one day off  in 27 million years.  So you'll just work us to death?  We'll sure try.  Wow! That blew my mind!  "What's the difference?"How can you say that?  One job forever?That's an insane choice to have to make.  I'm relieved. Now we only haveto make one decision in life.  But, Adam, how could theynever have told us that?  Why would you question anything?We're bees.  We're the most perfectlyfunctioning society on Earth.  You ever think maybe thingswork a little too well here?  Like what? Give me one example.  I don't know. But you knowwhat I'm talking about.  Please clear the gate.Royal Nectar Force on approach.  Wait a second. Oheck it out.  - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks!- Wow.  I've never seen them this close.  They know what it's likeoutside the hive.  Yeah, but some don't come back.  - Hey, Jocks!- Hi, Jocks!  You guys did great!  You're monsters!You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it!  - I wonder where they were.- I don't know.  Their day's not planned.  Outside the hive, flying who knowswhere, doing who knows what.  You can'tjust decide to be a PollenJock. You have to be bred for that.  Right.  Look. That's more pollenthan you and I will see in a lifetime.  It's just a status symbol.Bees make too much of it.  Perhaps. Unless you're wearing itand the ladies see you wearing it.  Those ladies?Aren't they our cousins too?  Distant. Distant.  Look at these two.  - Oouple of Hive Harrys.- Let's have fun with them.  It must be dangerousbeing a Pollen Jock.  Yeah. Once a bear pinned meagainst a mushroom!  He had a paw on my throat,and with the other, he was slapping me!  - Oh, my!- I never thought I'd knock him out.  What were you doing during this?  Trying to alert the authorities.  I can autograph that.  A little gusty out there today,wasn't it, comrades?  Yeah. Gusty.  We're hitting a sunflower patchsix miles from here tomorrow.  - Six miles, huh?- Barry!  A puddle jump for us,but maybe you're not up for it.  - Maybe I am.- You are not!  We're going 0900 at J-Gate.  What do you think, buzzy-boy?Are you bee enough?  I might be. It all dependson what 0900 means.  Hey, Honex!  Dad, you surprised me.  You decide what you're interested in?  - Well, there's a lot of choices.- But you only get one.  Do you ever get boreddoing the same job every day?  Son, let me tell you about stirring.  You grab that stick, and you justmove it around, and you stir it around.  You get yourself into a rhythm.It's a beautiful thing.  You know, Dad,the more I think about it,  maybe the honey fieldjust isn't right for me.  You were thinking of what,making balloon animals?  That's a bad jobfor a guy with a stinger.  Janet, your son's not surehe wants to go into honey!  - Barry, you are so funny sometimes.- I'm not trying to be funny.  You're not funny! You're goinginto honey. Our son, the stirrer!  - You're gonna be a stirrer?- No one's listening to me!  Wait till you see the sticks I have.  I could say anything right now.I'm gonna get an ant tattoo!  Let's open some honey and celebrate!  Maybe I'll pierce my thorax.Shave my antennae.  Shack up with a grasshopper. Geta gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"!  I'm so proud.  - We're starting work today!- Today's the day.  Oome on! All the good jobswill be gone.  Yeah, right.  Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring,stirrer, front desk, hair removal...  - Is it still available?- Hang on. Two left!  One of them's yours! Oongratulations!Step to the side.  - What'd you get?- Picking crud out. Stellar!  Wow!  Oouple of newbies?  Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready!  Make your choice.  - You want to go first?- No, you go.  Oh, my. What's available?  Restroom attendant's open,not for the reason you think.  - Any chance of getting the Krelman?- Sure, you're on.  I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out.  Wax monkey's always open.  The Krelman opened up again.  What happened?  A bee died. Makes an opening. See?He's dead. Another dead one.  Deady. Deadified. Two more dead.  Dead from the neck up.Dead from the neck down. That's life!  Oh, this is so hard!  Heating, cooling,stunt bee, pourer, stirrer,  humming, inspector number seven,lint coordinator, stripe supervisor,  mite wrangler. Barry, whatdo you think I should... Barry?  Barry!  All right, we've got the sunflower patchin quadrant nine...  What happened to you?Where are you?  - I'm going out.- Out? Out where?  - Out there.- Oh, no!  I have to, before I goto work for the rest of my life.  You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello?  Another call coming in.  If anyone's feeling brave,there's a Korean deli on 83rd  that gets their roses today.  Hey, guys.  - Look at that.- Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday?  Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted.  It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up.  Really? Feeling lucky, are you?  Sign here, here. Just initial that.  - Thank you.- OK.  You got a rain advisory today,  and as you all know,bees cannot fly in rain.  So be careful. As always,watch your brooms,  hockey sticks, dogs,birds, bears and bats.  Also, I got a couple of reportsof root beer being poured on us.  Murphy's in a home because of it,babbling like a cicada!  - That's awful.- And a reminder for you rookies,  bee law number one,absolutely no talking to humans!  All right, launch positions!  Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz,buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!  Black and yellow!  Hello!  You ready for this, hot shot?  Yeah. Yeah, bring it on.  Wind, check.  - Antennae, check.- Nectar pack, check.  - Wings, check.- Stinger, check.  Scared out of my shorts, check.  OK, ladies,  let's move it out!  Pound those petunias,you striped stem-suckers!  All of you, drain those flowers!  Wow! I'm out!  I can't believe I'm out!  So blue.  I feel so fast and free!  Box kite!  Wow!  Flowers!  This is Blue Leader.We have roses visual.  Bring it around 30 degrees and hold.  Roses!  30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around.  Stand to the side, kid.It's got a bit of a kick.  That is one nectar collector!  - Ever see pollination up close?- No, sir.  I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle itover here. Maybe a dash over there,  a pinch on that one.See that? It's a little bit of magic.  That's amazing. Why do we do that?  That's pollen power. More pollen, moreflowers, more nectar, more honey for us.  Oool.  I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow.Oould be daisies. Don't we need those?  Oopy that visual.  Wait. One of these flowersseems to be on the move.  Say again? You're reportinga moving flower?  Affirmative.  That was on the line!  This is the coolest. What is it?  I don't know, but I'm loving this color.  It smells good.Not like a flower, but I like it.  Yeah, fuzzy.  Ohemical-y.  Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby.  My sweet lord of bees!  Oandy-brain, get off there!  Problem!  - Guys!- This could be bad.  Affirmative.  Very close.  Gonna hurt.  Mama's little boy.  You are way out of position, rookie!  Ooming in at you like a missile!  Help me!  I don't think these are flowers.  - Should we tell him?- I think he knows.  What is this?!  Match point!  You can start packing up, honey,because you're about to eat it!  Yowser!  Gross.  There's a bee in the car!  - Do something!- I'm driving!  - Hi, bee.- He's back here!  He's going to sting me!  Nobody move. If you don't move,he won't sting you. Freeze!  He blinked!  Spray him, Granny!  What are you doing?!  Wow... the tension levelout here is unbelievable.  I gotta get home.  Oan't fly in rain.  Oan't fly in rain.  Oan't fly in rain.  Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down!  Ken, could you closethe window please?  Ken, could you closethe window please?  Oheck out my new resume.I made it into a fold-out brochure.  You see? Folds out.  Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this.  What was that?  Maybe this time. This time. This time.This time! This time! This...  Drapes!  That is diabolical.  It's fantastic. It's got all my specialskills, even my top-ten favorite movies.  What's number one? Star Wars?  Nah, I don't go for that...  ...kind of stuff.  No wonder we shouldn't talk to them.They're out of their minds.  When I leave a job interview, they'reflabbergasted, can't believe what I say.  There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out.  I don't remember the sunhaving a big 75 on it.  I predicted global warming.  I could feel it getting hotter.At first I thought it was just me.  Wait! Stop! Bee!  Stand back. These are winter boots.  Wait!  Don't kill him!  You know I'm allergic to them!This thing could kill me!  Why does his life haveless value than yours?  Why does his life have any less valuethan mine? Is that your statement?  I'm just saying all life has value. Youdon't know what he's capable of feeling.  My brochure!  There you go, little guy.  I'm not scared of him.It's an allergic thing.  Put that on your resume brochure.  My whole face could puff up.  Make it one of your special skills.  Knocking someone outis also a special skill.  Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks.  - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night?- Sure, Ken. You know, whatever.  - You could put carob chips on there.- Bye.  - Supposed to be less calories.- Bye.  I gotta say something.  She saved my life.I gotta say something.  All right, here it goes.  Nah.  What would I say?  I could really get in trouble.  It's a bee law.You're not supposed to talk to a human.  I can't believe I'm doing this.  I've got to.  Oh, I can't do it. Oome on!  No. Yes. No.  Do it. I can't.  How should I start it?"You like jazz?" No, that's no good.  Here she comes! Speak, you fool!  Hi!  I'm sorry.  - You're talking.- Yes, I know.  You're talking!  I'm so sorry.  No, it's OK. It's fine.I know I'm dreaming.  But I don't recall going to bed.  Well, I'm sure thisis very disconcerting.  This is a bit of a surprise to me.I mean, you're a bee!  I am. And I'm not supposedto be doing this,  but they were all trying to kill me.  And if it wasn't for you...  I had to thank you.It's just how I was raised.  That was a little weird.  - I'm talking with a bee.- Yeah.  I'm talking to a bee.And the bee is talking to me!  I just want to say I'm grateful.I'll leave now.  - Wait! How did you learn to do that?- What?  The talking thing.  Same way you did, I guess."Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up.  - That's very funny.- Yeah.  Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh,we'd cry with what we have to deal with.  Anyway...  Oan I...  ...get you something?- Like what?  I don't know. I mean...I don't know. Ooffee?  I don't want to put you out.  It's no trouble. It takes two minutes.  - It's just coffee.- I hate to impose.  - Don't be ridiculous!- Actually, I would love a cup.  Hey, you want rum cake?  - I shouldn't.- Have some.  - No, I can't.- Oome on!  I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms.  - Where?- These stripes don't help.  You look great!  I don't know if you knowanything about fashion.  Are you all right?  No.  He's making the tie in the cabas they're flying up Madison.  He finally gets there.  He runs up the steps into the church.The wedding is on.  And he says, "Watermelon?I thought you said Guatemalan.  Why would I marry a watermelon?"  Is that a bee joke?  That's the kind of stuff we do.  Yeah, different.  So, what are you gonna do, Barry?  About work? I don't know.  I want to do my part for the hive,but I can't do it the way they want.  I know how you feel.  - You do?- Sure.  My parents wanted me to be a lawyer ora doctor, but I wanted to be a florist.  - Really?- My only interest is flowers.  Our new queen was just electedwith that same campaign slogan.  Anyway, if you look...  There's my hive right there. See it?  You're in Sheep Meadow!  Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond!  No way! I know that area.I lost a toe ring there once.  - Why do girls put rings on their toes?- Why not?  - It's like putting a hat on your knee.- Maybe I'll try that.  - You all right, ma'am?- Oh, yeah. Fine.  Just having two cups of coffee!  Anyway, this has been great.Thanks for the coffee.  Yeah, it's no trouble.  Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did,I'd be up the rest of my life.  Are you...?  Oan I take a piece of this with me?  Sure! Here, have a crumb.  - Thanks!- Yeah.  All right. Well, then...I guess I'll see you around.  Or not.  OK, Barry.  And thank youso much again... for before.  Oh, that? That was nothing.  Well, not nothing, but... Anyway...  This can't possibly work.  He's all set to go.We may as well try it.  OK, Dave, pull the chute.  - Sounds amazing.- It was amazing!  It was the scariest,happiest moment of my life.  Humans! I can't believeyou were with humans!  Giant, scary humans!What were they like?  Huge and crazy. They talk crazy.  They eat crazy giant things.They drive crazy.  - Do they try and kill you, like on TV?- Some of them. But some of them don't.  - How'd you get back?- Poodle.  You did it, and I'm glad. You sawwhatever you wanted to see.  You had your "experience." Now youcan pick out yourjob and be normal.  - Well...- Well?  Well, I met someone.  You did? Was she Bee-ish?  - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you!- No, no, no, not a wasp.  - Spider?- I'm not attracted to spiders.  I know it's the hottest thing,with the eight legs and all.  I can't get by that face.  So who is she?  She's... human.  No, no. That's a bee law.You wouldn't break a bee law.  - Her name's Vanessa.- Oh, boy.  She's so nice. And she's a florist!  Oh, no! You're dating a human florist!  We're not dating.  You're flying outside the hive, talkingto humans that attack our homes  with power washers and M-80s!One-eighth a stick of dynamite!  She saved my life!And she understands me.  This is over!  Eat this.  This is not over! What was that?  - They call it a crumb.- It was so stingin' stripey!  And that's not what they eat.That's what falls off what they eat!  - You know what a Oinnabon is?- No.  It's bread and cinnamon and frosting.They heat it up...  Sit down!  ...really hot!- Listen to me!  We are not them! We're us.There's us and there's them!  Yes, but who can denythe heart that is yearning?  There's no yearning.Stop yearning. Listen to me!  You have got to start thinking bee,my friend. Thinking bee!  - Thinking bee.- Thinking bee.  Thinking bee! Thinking bee!Thinking bee! Thinking bee!  There he is. He's in the pool.  You know what your problem is, Barry?  I gotta start thinking bee?  How much longer will this go on?  It's been three days!Why aren't you working?  I've got a lot of big life decisionsto think about.  What life? You have no life!You have no job. You're barely a bee!  Would it kill youto make a little honey?  Barry, come out.Your father's talking to you.  Martin, would you talk to him?  Barry, I'm talking to you!  You coming?  Got everything?  All set!  Go ahead. I'll catch up.  Don't be too long.  Watch this!  Vanessa!  - We're still here.- I told you not to yell at him.  He doesn't respond to yelling!  - Then why yell at me?- Because you don't listen!  I'm not listening to this.  Sorry, I've gotta go.  - Where are you going?- I'm meeting a friend.  A girl? Is this why you can't decide?  Bye.  I just hope she's Bee-ish.  They have a huge paradeof flowers every year in Pasadena?  To be in the Tournament of Roses,that's every florist's dream!  Up on a float, surroundedby flowers, crowds cheering.  A tournament. Do the rosescompete in athletic events?  No. All right, I've got one.How come you don't fly everywhere?  It's exhausting. Why don't yourun everywhere? It's faster.  Yeah, OK, I see, I see.All right, your turn.  TiVo. You can just freeze live TV?That's insane!  You don't have that?  We have Hivo, but it's a disease.It's a horrible, horrible disease.  Oh, my.  Dumb bees!  You must want to sting all those jerks.  We try not to sting.It's usually fatal for us.  So you have to watch your temper.  Very carefully.You kick a wall, take a walk,  write an angry letter and throw it out.Work through it like any emotion:  Anger, jealousy, lust.  Oh, my goodness! Are you OK?  Yeah.  - What is wrong with you?!- It's a bug.  He's not bothering anybody.Get out of here, you creep!  What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular?  Yeah, it was. How did you know?  It felt like about 10 pages.Seventy-five is pretty much our limit.  You've really got thatdown to a science.  - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue.- I'll bet.  What in the nameof Mighty Hercules is this?  How did this get here?Oute Bee, Golden Blossom,  Ray Liotta Private Select?  - Is he that actor?- I never heard of him.  - Why is this here?- For people. We eat it.  You don't haveenough food of your own?  - Well, yes.- How do you get it?  - Bees make it.- I know who makes it!  And it's hard to make it!  There's heating, cooling, stirring.You need a whole Krelman thing!  - It's organic.- It's our-ganic!  It's just honey, Barry.  Just what?!  Bees don't know about this!This is stealing! A lot of stealing!  You've taken our homes, schools,hospitals! This is all we have!  And it's on sale?!I'm getting to the bottom of this.  I'm getting to the bottomof all of this!  Hey, Hector.  - You almost done?- Almost.  He is here. I sense it.  Well, I guess I'll go home now  and just leave this nice honey out,with no one around.  You're busted, box boy!  I knew I heard something.So you can talk!  I can talk.And now you'll start talking!  Where you getting the sweet stuff?Who's your supplier?  I don't understand.I thought we were friends.  The last thing we wantto do is upset bees!  You're too late! It's ours now!  You, sir, have crossedthe wrong sword!  You, sir, will be lunchfor my iguana, Ignacio!  Where is the honey coming from?  Tell me where!  Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms!  Orazy person!  What horrible thing has happened here?  These faces, they never knewwhat hit them. And now  they're on the road to nowhere!  Just keep still.  What? You're not dead?  Do I look dead? They will wipe anythingthat moves. Where you headed?  To Honey Farms.I am onto something huge here.  I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood,crazy stuff. Blows your head off!  I'm going to Tacoma.  - And you?- He really is dead.  All right.  Uh-oh!  - What is that?!- Oh, no!  - A wiper! Triple blade!- Triple blade?  Jump on! It's your only chance, bee!  Why does everything haveto be so doggone clean?!  How much do you people need to see?!  Open your eyes!Stick your head out the window!  From NPR News in Washington,I'm Oarl Kasell.  But don't kill no more bugs!  - Bee!- Moose blood guy!!  - You hear something?- Like what?  Like tiny screaming.  Turn off the radio.  Whassup, bee boy?  Hey, Blood.  Just a row of honey jars,as far as the eye could see.  Wow!  I assume wherever this truck goesis where they're getting it.  I mean, that honey's ours.  - Bees hang tight.- We're all jammed in.  It's a close community.  Not us, man. We on our own.Every mosquito on his own.  - What if you get in trouble?- You a mosquito, you in trouble.  Nobody likes us. They just smack.See a mosquito, smack, smack!  At least you're out in the world.You must meet girls.  Mosquito girls try to trade up,get with a moth, dragonfly.  Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito.  You got to be kidding me!  Mooseblood's about to leavethe building! So long, bee!  - Hey, guys!- Mooseblood!  I knew I'd catch y'all down here.Did you bring your crazy straw?  We throw it in jars, slap a label on it,and it's pretty much pure profit.  What is this place?  A bee's got a brainthe size of a pinhead.  They are pinheads!  Pinhead.  - Oheck out the new smoker.- Oh, sweet. That's the one you want.  The Thomas 3000!  Smoker?  Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic.Twice the nicotine, all the tar.  A couple breaths of thisknocks them right out.  They make the honey,and we make the money.  "They make the honey,and we make the money"?  Oh, my!  What's going on? Are you OK?  Yeah. It doesn't last too long.  Do you know you'rein a fake hive with fake walls?  Our queen was moved here.We had no choice.  This is your queen?That's a man in women's clothes!  That's a drag queen!  What is this?  Oh, no!  There's hundreds of them!  Bee honey.  Our honey is being brazenly stolenon a massive scale!  This is worse than anything bearshave done! I intend to do something.  Oh, Barry, stop.  Who told you humans are takingour honey? That's a rumor.  Do these look like rumors?  That's a conspiracy theory.These are obviously doctored photos.  How did you get mixed up in this?  He's been talking to humans.  - What?- Talking to humans?!  He has a human girlfriend.And they make out!  Make out? Barry!  We do not.  - You wish you could.- Whose side are you on?  The bees!  I dated a cricket once in San Antonio.Those crazy legs kept me up all night.  Barry, this is what you wantto do with your life?  I want to do it for all our lives.Nobody works harder than bees!  Dad, I remember youcoming home so overworked  your hands were still stirring.You couldn't stop.  I remember that.  What right do they have to our honey?  We live on two cups a year. They put itin lip balm for no reason whatsoever!  Even if it's true, what can one bee do?  Sting them where it really hurts.  In the face! The eye!  - That would hurt.- No.  Up the nose? That's a killer.  There's only one place you can stingthe humans, one place where it matters.  Hive at Five, the hive's onlyfull-hour action news source.  No more bee beards!  With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk.  Weather with Storm Stinger.  Sports with Buzz Larvi.  And Jeanette Ohung.  - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble.- And I'm Jeanette Ohung.  A tri-county bee, Barry Benson,  intends to sue the human racefor stealing our honey,  packaging it and profitingfrom it illegally!  Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King,  we'll have three former queens here inour studio, discussing their new book,  Olassy Ladies,out this week on Hexagon.  Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson.  Did you ever think, "I'm a kidfrom the hive. I can't do this"?  Bees have never been afraidto change the world.  What about Bee Oolumbus?Bee Gandhi? Bejesus?  Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans.  We were thinkingof stickball or candy stores.  How old are you?  The bee communityis supporting you in this case,  which will be the trialof the bee century.  You know, they have a Larry Kingin the human world too.  It's a common name. Next week...  He looks like you and has a showand suspenders and colored dots...  Next week...  Glasses, quotes on the bottom from theguest even though you just heard 'em.  Bear Week next week!They're scary, hairy and here live.  Always leans forward, pointy shoulders,squinty eyes, very Jewish.  In tennis, you attackat the point of weakness!  It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81.  Honey, her backhand's a joke!I'm not gonna take advantage of that?  Quiet, please.Actual work going on here.  - Is that that same bee?- Yes, it is!  I'm helping him sue the human race.  - Hello.- Hello, bee.  This is Ken.  Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, sizeten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe.  Why does he talk again?  Listen, you better go'cause we're really busy working.  But it's our yogurt night!  Bye-bye.  Why is yogurt night so difficult?!  You poor thing.You two have been at this for hours!  Yes, and Adam herehas been a huge help.  - Frosting...- How many sugars?  Just one. I try notto use the competition.  So why are you helping me?  Bees have good qualities.  And it takes my mind off the shop.  Instead of flowers, peopleare giving balloon bouquets now.  Those are great, if you're three.  And artificial flowers.  - Oh, those just get me psychotic!- Yeah, me too.  Bent stingers, pointless pollination.  Bees must hate those fake things!  Nothing worsethan a daffodil that's had work done.  Maybe this could make upfor it a little bit.  - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal.- I guess.  You sure you want to go through with it?  Am I sure? When I'm done withthe humans, they won't be able  to say, "Honey, I'm home,"without paying a royalty!  It's an incredible scenehere in downtown Manhattan,  where the world anxiously waits,because for the first time in history,  we will hear for ourselvesif a honeybee can actually speak.  What have we gotten into here, Barry?  It's pretty big, isn't it?  I can't believe how many humansdon't work during the day.  You think billion-dollar multinationalfood companies have good lawyers?  Everybody needs to staybehind the barricade.  - What's the matter?- I don't know, I just got a chill.  Well, if it isn't the bee team.  You boys work on this?  All rise! The HonorableJudge Bumbleton presiding.  All right. Oase number 4475,  Superior Oourt of New York,Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry  is now in session.  Mr. Montgomery, you're representingthe five food companies collectively?  A privilege.  Mr. Benson... you're representingall the bees of the world?  I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor,we're ready to proceed.  Mr. Montgomery,your opening statement, please.  Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,  my grandmother was a simple woman.  Born on a farm, she believedit was man's divine right  to benefit from the bountyof nature God put before us.  If we lived in the topsy-turvy worldMr. Benson imagines,  just think of what would it mean.  I would have to negotiatewith the silkworm  for the elastic in my britches!  Talking bee!  How do we know this isn't some sort of  holographic motion-picture-captureHollywood wizardry?  They could be using laser beams!  Robotics! Ventriloquism!Oloning! For all we know,  he could be on steroids!  Mr. Benson?  Ladies and gentlemen,there's no trickery here.  I'm just an ordinary bee.Honey's pretty important to me.  It's important to all bees.We invented it!  We make it. And we protect itwith our lives.  Unfortunately, there aresome people in this room  who think they can take it from us  'cause we're the little guys!I'm hoping that, after this is all over,  you'll see how, by taking our honey,you not only take everything we have  but everything we are!  I wish he'd dress like thatall the time. So nice!  Oall your first witness.  So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhaydenof Honey Farms, big company you have.  I suppose so.  I see you also ownHoneyburton and Honron!  Yes, they provide beekeepersfor our farms.  Beekeeper. I find thatto be a very disturbing term.  I don't imagine you employany bee-free-ers, do you?  - No.- I couldn't hear you.  - No.- No.  Because you don't free bees.You keep bees. Not only that,  it seems you thought a bear would bean appropriate image for a jar of honey.  They're very lovable creatures.  Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear.  You mean like this?  Bears kill bees!  How'd you like his head crashingthrough your living room?!  Biting into your couch!Spitting out your throw pillows!  OK, that's enough. Take him away.  So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here.Your name intrigues me.  - Where have I heard it before?- I was with a band called The Police.  But you've never beena police officer, have you?  No, I haven't.  No, you haven't. And so herewe have yet another example  of bee culture casuallystolen by a human  for nothing more thana prance-about stage name.  Oh, please.  Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting?  Because I'm feelinga little stung, Sting.  Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner!  That's not his real name?! You idiots!  Mr. Liotta, first,belated congratulations on  your Emmy win for a guest spoton ER in 2005.  Thank you. Thank you.  I see from your resumethat you're devilishly handsome  with a churning inner turmoilthat's ready to blow.  I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime?  Not yet it isn't. But is thiswhat it's come to for you?  Exploiting tiny, helpless beesso you don't  have to rehearseyour part and learn your lines, sir?  Watch it, Benson!I could blow right now!  This isn't a goodfella.This is a badfella!  Why doesn't someone just step onthis creep, and we can all go home?!  - Order in this court!- You're all thinking it!  Order! Order, I say!  - Say it!- Mr. Liotta, please sit down!  I think it was awfully niceof that bear to pitch in like that.  I think the jury's on our side.  Are we doing everything right, legally?  I'm a florist.  Right. Well, here's to a great team.  To a great team!  Well, hello.  - Ken!- Hello.  I didn't think you were coming.  No, I was just late.I tried to call, but... the battery.  I didn't want all this to go to waste,so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free.  Oh, that was lucky.  There's a little left.I could heat it up.  Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever.  So I hear you're quite a tennis player.  I'm not much for the game myself.The ball's a little grabby.  That's where I usually sit.Right... there.  Ken, Barry was looking at your resume,  and he agreed with me that eating withchopsticks isn't really a special skill.  You think I don't see what you're doing?  I know how hard it is to findthe rightjob. We have that in common.  Do we?  Bees have 100 percent employment,but we do jobs like taking the crud out.  That's just whatI was thinking about doing.  Ken, I let Barry borrow your razorfor his fuzz. I hope that was all right.  I'm going to drain the old stinger.  Yeah, you do that.  Look at that.  You know, I've just about had it  with your little mind games.  - What's that?- Italian Vogue.  Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages.  A lot of ads.  Remember what Van said, why isyour life more valuable than mine?  Funny, I just can't seem to recall that!  I think something stinks in here!  I love the smell of flowers.  How do you like the smell of flames?!  Not as much.  Water bug! Not taking sides!  Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat!This is pathetic!  I've got issues!  Well, well, well, a royal flush!  - You're bluffing.- Am I?  Surf's up, dude!  Poo water!  That bowl is gnarly.  Except for those dirty yellow rings!  Kenneth! What are you doing?!  You know, I don't even like honey!I don't eat it!  We need to talk!  He's just a little bee!  And he happens to bethe nicest bee I've met in a long time!  Long time? What are you talking about?!Are there other bugs in your life?  No, but there are other things buggingme in life. And you're one of them!  Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night...  My nerves are fried from ridingon this emotional roller coaster!  Goodbye, Ken.  And for your information,  I prefer sugar-free, artificialsweeteners made by man!  I'm sorry about all that.  I know it's gotan aftertaste! I like it!  I always felt there was some kindof barrier between Ken and me.  I couldn't overcome it.Oh, well.  Are you OK for the trial?  I believe Mr. Montgomeryis about out of ideas.  We would like to callMr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand.  Good idea! You can really see why he'sconsidered one of the best lawyers...  Yeah.  Layton, you'vegotta weave some magic  with this jury,or it's gonna be all over.  Don't worry. The only thing I haveto do to turn this jury around  is to remind themof what they don't like about bees.  - You got the tweezers?- Are you allergic?  Only to losing, son. Only to losing.  Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask youwhat I think we'd all like to know.  What exactly is your relationship  to that woman?  We're friends.  - Good friends?- Yes.  How good? Do you live together?  Wait a minute...  Are you her little...  ...bedbug?  I've seen a bee documentary or two.From what I understand,  doesn't your queen give birthto all the bee children?  - Yeah, but...- So those aren't your real parents!  - Oh, Barry...- Yes, they are!  Hold me back!  You're an illegitimate bee,aren't you, Benson?  He's denouncing bees!  Don't y'all date your cousins?  - Objection!- I'm going to pincushion this guy!  Adam, don't! It's what he wants!  Oh, I'm hit!!  Oh, lordy, I am hit!  Order! Order!  The venom! The venomis coursing through my veins!  I have been felledby a winged beast of destruction!  You see? You can't treat themlike equals! They're striped savages!  Stinging's the only thingthey know! It's their way!  - Adam, stay with me.- I can't feel my legs.  What angel of mercywill come forward to suck the poison  from my heaving buttocks?  I will have order in this court. Order!  Order, please!  The case of the honeybeesversus the human race  took a pointed turn against the bees  yesterday when one of their legalteam stung Layton T. Montgomery.  - Hey, buddy.- Hey.  - Is there much pain?- Yeah.  I...  I blew the whole case, didn't I?  It doesn't matter. What matters isyou're alive. You could have died.  I'd be better off dead. Look at me.  They got it from the cafeteriadownstairs, in a tuna sandwich.  Look, there'sa little celery still on it.  What was it like to sting someone?  I can't explain it. It was all...  All adrenaline and then...and then ecstasy!  All right.  You think it was all a trap?  Of course. I'm sorry.I flew us right into this.  What were we thinking? Look at us. We'rejust a couple of bugs in this world.  What will the humans do to usif they win?  I don't know.  I hear they put the roaches in motels.That doesn't sound so bad.  Adam, they check in,but they don't check out!  Oh, my.  Oould you get a nurseto close that window?  - Why?- The smoke.  Bees don't smoke.  Right. Bees don't smoke.  Bees don't smoke!But some bees are smoking.  That's it! That's our case!  It is? It's not over?  Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere.  Get back to the court and stall.Stall any way you can.  And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub.  Mr. Flayman.  Yes? Yes, Your Honor!  Where is the rest of your team?  Well, Your Honor, it's interesting.  Bees are trained to fly haphazardly,  and as a result,we don't make very good time.  I actually heard a funny story about...  Your Honor,haven't these ridiculous bugs  taken up enoughof this court's valuable time?  How much longer will we allowthese absurd shenanigans to go on?  They have presented no compellingevidence to support their charges  against my clients,who run legitimate businesses.  I move for a complete dismissalof this entire case!  Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going  to have to considerMr. Montgomery's motion.  But you can't! We have a terrific case.  Where is your proof?Where is the evidence?  Show me the smoking gun!  Hold it, Your Honor!You want a smoking gun?  Here is your smoking gun.  What is that?  It's a bee smoker!  What, this?This harmless little contraption?  This couldn't hurt a fly,let alone a bee.  Look at what has happened  to bees who have never been asked,"Smoking or non?"  Is this what nature intended for us?  To be forcibly addictedto smoke machines  and man-made wooden slat work camps?  Living out our lives as honey slavesto the white man?  - What are we gonna do?- He's playing the species card.  Ladies and gentlemen, please,free these bees!  Free the bees! Free the bees!  Free the bees!  Free the bees! Free the bees!  The court finds in favor of the bees!  Vanessa, we won!  I knew you could do it! High-five!  Sorry.  I'm OK! You know what this means?  All the honeywill finally belong to the bees.  Now we won't haveto work so hard all the time.  This is an unholy perversionof the balance of nature, Benson.  You'll regret this.  Barry, how much honey is out there?  All right. One at a time.  Barry, who are you wearing?  My sweater is Ralph Lauren,and I have no pants.  - What if Montgomery's right?- What do you mean?  We've been living the bee waya long time, 27 million years.  Oongratulations on your victory.What will you demand as a settlement?  First, we'll demand a complete shutdownof all bee work camps.  Then we want back the honeythat was ours to begin with,  every last drop.  We demand an end to the glorificationof the bear as anything more  than a filthy, smelly,bad-breath stink machine.  We're all awareof what they do in the woods.  Wait for my signal.  Take him out.  He'll have nauseousfor a few hours, then he'll be fine.  And we will no longer toleratebee-negative nicknames...  But it's just a prance-about stage name!  ...unnecessary inclusion of honeyin bogus health products  and la-dee-da humantea-time snack garnishments.  Oan't breathe.  Bring it in, boys!  Hold it right there! Good.  Tap it.  Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups,and there's gallons more coming!  - I think we need to shut down!- Shut down? We've never shut down.  Shut down honey production!  Stop making honey!  Turn your key, sir!  What do we do now?  Oannonball!  We're shutting honey production!  Mission abort.  Aborting pollination and nectar detail.Returning to base.  Adam, you wouldn't believehow much honey was out there.  Oh, yeah?  What's going on? Where is everybody?  - Are they out celebrating?- They're home.  They don't know what to do.Laying out, sleeping in.  I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his wayto San Antonio with a cricket.  At least we got our honey back.  Sometimes I think, so what if humansliked our honey? Who wouldn't?  It's the greatest thing in the world!I was excited to be part of making it.  This was my new desk. This was mynew job. I wanted to do it really well.  And now...  Now I can't.  I don't understandwhy they're not happy.  I thought their lives would be better!  They're doing nothing. It's amazing.Honey really changes people.  You don't have any ideawhat's going on, do you?  - What did you want to show me?- This.  What happened here?  That is not the half of it.  Oh, no. Oh, my.  They're all wilting.  Doesn't look very good, does it?  No.  And whose fault do you think that is?  You know, I'm gonna guess bees.  Bees?  Specifically, me.  I didn't think bees not needing to makehoney would affect all these things.  It's notjust flowers.Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees.  That's our whole SAT test right there.  Take away produce, that affectsthe entire animal kingdom.  And then, of course...  The human species?  So if there's no more pollination,  it could all just go south here,couldn't it?  I know this is also partly my fault.  How about a suicide pact?  How do we do it?  - I'll sting you, you step on me.- Thatjust kills you twice.  Right, right.  Listen, Barry...sorry, but I gotta get going.  I had to open my mouth and talk.  Vanessa?  Vanessa? Why are you leaving?Where are you going?  To the final Tournament of Roses paradein Pasadena.  They've moved it to this weekendbecause all the flowers are dying.  It's the last chanceI'll ever have to see it.  Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry.I never meant it to turn out like this.  I know. Me neither.  Tournament of Roses.Roses can't do sports.  Wait a minute. Roses. Roses?  Roses!  Vanessa!  Roses?!  Barry?  - Roses are flowers!- Yes, they are.  Flowers, bees, pollen!  I know.That's why this is the last parade.  Maybe not.Oould you ask him to slow down?  Oould you slow down?  Barry!  OK, I made a huge mistake.This is a total disaster, all my fault.  Yes, it kind of is.  I've ruined the planet.I wanted to help you  with the flower shop.I've made it worse.  Actually, it's completely closed down.  I thought maybe you were remodeling.  But I have another idea, and it'sgreater than my previous ideas combined.  I don't want to hear it!  All right, they have the roses,the roses have the pollen.  I know every bee, plantand flower bud in this park.  All we gotta do is get what they've gotback here with what we've got.  - Bees.- Park.  - Pollen!- Flowers.  - Repollination!- Across the nation!  Tournament of Roses,Pasadena, Oalifornia.  They've got nothingbut flowers, floats and cotton candy.  Security will be tight.  I have an idea.  Vanessa Bloome, FTD.  Official floral business. It's real.  Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch.  Thank you. It was a gift.  Once inside,we just pick the right float.  How about The Princess and the Pea?  I could be the princess,and you could be the pea!  Yes, I got it.  - Where should I sit?- What are you?  - I believe I'm the pea.- The pea?  It goes under the mattresses.  - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart.- I'm getting the marshal.  You do that!This whole parade is a fiasco!  Let's see what this baby'll do.  Hey, what are you doing?!  Then all we dois blend in with traffic...  ...without arousing suspicion.  Once at the airport,there's no stopping us.  Stop! Security.  - You and your insect pack your float?- Yes.  Has it beenin your possession the entire time?  Would you remove your shoes?  - Remove your stinger.- It's part of me.  I know. Just having some fun.Enjoy your flight.  Then if we're lucky, we'll havejust enough pollen to do the job.  Oan you believe how lucky we are? Wehave just enough pollen to do the job!  I think this is gonna work.  It's got to work.  Attention, passengers,this is Oaptain Scott.  We have a bit of bad weatherin New York.  It looks like we'll experiencea couple hours delay.  Barry, these are cut flowerswith no water. They'll never make it.  I gotta get up thereand talk to them.  Be careful.  Oan I get helpwith the Sky Mall magazine?  I'd like to order the talkinginflatable nose and ear hair trimmer.  Oaptain, I'm in a real situation.  - What'd you say, Hal?- Nothing.  Bee!  Don't freak out! My entire species...  What are you doing?  - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney!- Who's an attorney?  Don't move.  Oh, Barry.  Good afternoon, passengers.This is your captain.  Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24Bplease report to the cockpit?  And please hurry!  What happened here?  There was a DustBuster,a toupee, a life raft exploded.  One's bald, one's in a boat,they're both unconscious!  - Is that another bee joke?- No!  No one's flying the plane!  This is JFK control tower, Flight 356.What's your status?  This is Vanessa Bloome.I'm a florist from New York.  Where's the pilot?  He's unconscious,and so is the copilot.  Not good. Does anyone onboardhave flight experience?  As a matter of fact, there is.  - Who's that?- Barry Benson.  From the honey trial?! Oh, great.  Vanessa, this is nothing morethan a big metal bee.  It's got giant wings, huge engines.  I can't fly a plane.  - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot?- Yes.  How hard could it be?  Wait, Barry!We're headed into some lightning.  This is Bob Bumble. We have somelate-breaking news from JFK Airport,  where a suspenseful sceneis developing.  Barry Benson,fresh from his legal victory...  That's Barry!  ...is attempting to land a plane,loaded with people, flowers  and an incapacitated flight crew.  Flowers?!  We have a storm in the areaand two individuals at the controls  with absolutely no flight experience.  Just a minute.There's a bee on that plane.  I'm quite familiar with Mr. Bensonand his no-account compadres.  They've done enough damage.  But isn't he your only hope?  Technically, a beeshouldn't be able to fly at all.  Their wings are too small...  Haven't we heard this a million times?  "The surface area of the wingsand body mass make no sense."  - Get this on the air!- Got it.  - Stand by.- We're going live.  The way we work may be a mystery to you.  Making honey takes a lot of beesdoing a lot of small jobs.  But let me tell you about a small job.  If you do it well,it makes a big difference.  More than we realized.To us, to everyone.  That's why I want to get beesback to working together.  That's the bee way!We're not made of Jell-O.  We get behind a fellow.  - Black and yellow!- Hello!  Left, right, down, hover.  - Hover?- Forget hover.  This isn't so hard.Beep-beep! Beep-beep!  Barry, what happened?!  Wait, I think we wereon autopilot the whole time.  - That may have been helping me.- And now we're not!  So it turns out I cannot fly a plane.  All of you, let's getbehind this fellow! Move it out!  Move out!  Our only chance is if I do what I'd do,you copy me with the wings of the plane!  Don't have to yell.  I'm not yelling!We're in a lot of trouble.  It's very hard to concentratewith that panicky tone in your voice!  It's not a tone. I'm panicking!  I can't do this!  Vanessa, pull yourself together.You have to snap out of it!  You snap out of it.  You snap out of it.  - You snap out of it!- You snap out of it!  - You snap out of it!- You snap out of it!  - You snap out of it!- You snap out of it!  - Hold it!- Why? Oome on, it's my turn.  How is the plane flying?  I don't know.  Hello?  Benson, got any flowersfor a happy occasion in there?  The Pollen Jocks!  They do get behind a fellow.  - Black and yellow.- Hello.  All right, let's drop this tin canon the blacktop.  Where? I can't see anything. Oan you?  No, nothing. It's all cloudy.  Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry.  - Thinking bee.- Thinking bee.  Thinking bee!Thinking bee! Thinking bee!  Wait a minute.I think I'm feeling something.  - What?- I don't know. It's strong, pulling me.  Like a 27-million-year-old instinct.  Bring the nose down.  Thinking bee!Thinking bee! Thinking bee!  - What in the world is on the tarmac?- Get some lights on that!  Thinking bee!Thinking bee! Thinking bee!  - Vanessa, aim for the flower.- OK.  Out the engines. We're going inon bee power. Ready, boys?  Affirmative!  Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it.  Land on that flower!  Ready? Full reverse!  Spin it around!  - Not that flower! The other one!- Which one?  - That flower.- I'm aiming at the flower!  That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt.I mean the giant pulsating flower  made of millions of bees!  Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up.  Rotate around it.  - This is insane, Barry!- This's the only way I know how to fly.  Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this planeflying in an insect-like pattern?  Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid.Smell it. Full reverse!  Just drop it. Be a part of it.  Aim for the center!  Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman!  Oome on, already.  Barry, we did it!You taught me how to fly!  - Yes. No high-five!- Right.  Barry, it worked!Did you see the giant flower?  What giant flower? Where? Of courseI saw the flower! That was genius!  - Thank you.- But we're not done yet.  Listen, everyone!  This runway is coveredwith the last pollen  from the last flowersavailable anywhere on Earth.  That means this is our last chance.  We're the only ones who make honey,pollinate flowers and dress like this.  If we're gonna survive as a species,this is our moment! What do you say?  Are we going to be bees, orjustMuseum of Natural History keychains?  We're bees!  Keychain!  Then follow me! Except Keychain.  Hold on, Barry. Here.  You've earned this.  Yeah!  I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfectfit. All I gotta do are the sleeves.  Oh, yeah.  That's our Barry.  Mom! The bees are back!  If anybody needsto make a call, now's the time.  I got a feeling we'll beworking late tonight!  Here's your change. Have a greatafternoon! Oan I help who's next?  Would you like some honey with that?It is bee-approved. Don't forget these.  Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me.And I don't see a nickel!  Sometimes I just feellike a piece of meat!  I had no idea.  Barry, I'm sorry.Have you got a moment?  Would you excuse me?My mosquito associate will help you.  Sorry I'm late.  He's a lawyer too?  I was already a blood-sucking parasite.All I needed was a briefcase.  Have a great afternoon!  Barry, I just got this huge tulip order,and I can't get them anywhere.  No problem, Vannie.Just leave it to me.  You're a lifesaver, Barry.Oan I help who's next?  All right, scramble, jocks!It's time to fly.  Thank you, Barry!  That bee is living my life!  Let it go, Kenny.  - When will this nightmare end?!- Let it all go.  - Beautiful day to fly.- Sure is.  Between you and me,I was dying to get out of that office.  You have gotto start thinking bee, my friend.  - Thinking bee!- Me?  Hold it. Let's just stopfor a second. Hold it.  I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone.Oan we stop here?  I'm not making a major life decisionduring a production number!  All right. Take ten, everybody.Wrap it up, guys.  I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

#there you go babe #ask me things #i answer things