Burt and the Bees.

I told Burt to stay away from those damn bees.

When he walked across the yard with that stick in his hand, I knew he was heading for their nest. He was asking for it. He swung the stick at the basketball sized nest with all his might; all the while laughing like a kid in a candy store.

Soon he was dancing. Dancing the funniest dance I ever saw.

I started laughing too.

Then Burt quit laughing, but he kept on dancing. Burt started screaming. I kept on laughing. "I told you Burt!" I shouted from across the yard. I don't think Burt heard me though, because of all of the screaming.

Burt could run very fast, faster than I thought he could but not as fast as those damn bees. When he stumbled and fell, he got right back up. Then he fell down again. He made it easy for the bees. It got pretty quiet pretty quickly. Except for the buzzing. I tried to count all the bees on Burts body but I quit at a hundred and went inside to eat lunch.

Later, when I returned to Burt, all the bees were gone.

He was pretty puffed up. I went and picked up the stick Burt had used to swing at the nest and later at the bees. I called it a swinging stick. I used the swinging stick to poke Burt in the face. I renamed it a poking stick. Burt let out a soft moan. He couldn't tell who poked him in the face. His eyes were all swelled shut.

I told Burt he should have stayed away from those damn bees.

I don't think he heard me though.