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#dean gives you an impossible choice
zepskies · 10 months
Note
Hey loved your Sam having a crush on Dean's gf! I was wondering if I could request the flipped version where Dean has a crush on Sam's gf 😏😏
Oh my God, hun! 🫢
The way I didn't even contemplate this!! But it's so delicious...
(And thank you for reading that Dean imagine! It was angsty, but oh so fun. 😘)
See this imagine for context: You are Dean's one exception.
Word Count: 1,300
Imagine: Dean gives you an impossible choice.
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Dean hates this. He hates it more than anything.
He hates the look of you, all soft curves and smiles that brighten your eyes. Your hair looks even softer.
(He wants to tangle his fingers in it, tight, until your voice echoes in his ear.)
He hates that you bake cookies on Saturdays. (He also hates that you're learning how to make pies, just because he mentioned off-handedly that you should try. If your snickerdoodles are this good, he can only imagine what you could do with some cherry filling.)
He hates that you greet him, every morning, without fail, with a hand on his shoulder and asking how he's slept. (Even better if you'd joined me, he thinks.)
And then his mind gets truly creative, imagining all the ways he could make you lose sleep. All the ways his hands and tongue could get creative, tracing the contours of your body.
He hates all of that too.
But what he hates most of all?
That you're Sammy's girl.
Sam's known you longer, since college. The two of you reconnected after the second apocalypse diverted. Or was it the third one? Dean's lost count at this point.
So you're smart. Sam studied Latin, but you studied Greek and Spanish, and even symbology. You consider yourself a linguist -- a fact that had Dean grinning from the moment he met you...
But as many times as he made you blush and smile with his charm and a well-placed joke, it was Sam who hooked you with one of his dimpled smiles and asking you for help on a case.
You'd agreed, for him. The two of you bonded over your nerddom, with heads bowed over ancient texts and shared personal history, and Dean tried not to feel like an outsider.
And yet, even when you fell for his brother. Even when you moved into the bunker, taking up his counter space with your ridiculous baking appliances. Even when you doted and touched and kissed and promised Sam more with your eyes, Dean couldn't shake the feeling that he'd missed his chance.
So Dean backed off. He made excuses not to be around you and Sam when it got too much for him. Had to ignore the way his stomach churned (and maybe his heart clenched too).
...Until his chance comes. He sees it.
He's also a bit drunk.
"Aw, Dean. You okay?" you ask, picking up a large, empty bottle of whiskey by his hand, which still holds a fifth of a glass.
"Oh, I'm good," he replies, raising his brows with a smile. "I'm real good."
You snort with a laugh. He smirks at the sound; he would never admit it, but a small part inside him always swells with warmth when he makes you laugh.
You bring him a glass of water with just a few cubes of ice. You know he doesn't like it packed to the top. "Drink this."
"What's the magic word?" Dean teases, even as you take the glass tumbler out of his hand.
You then sit next to him at the kitchen table and offer him a wry smile, resting your chin in your hand while your elbow rests on the table. "Please, will you hydrate yourself?"
"Already did," Dean remarks.
"Dean," you say, more seriously gesturing to the water. "Please."
He hesitates. But seeing your face, he finally rolls his eyes and dutifully sips at the tall glass of water.
You reach out for his shoulder. His inebriated gaze is drawn to your hand, the smooth skin of your arm, and back to your face that shows soft concern.
"You don't drink like this unless something's on your mind," you say.
Dean falters. When did you get to know him so well?
"What, a man can't drink alone anymore?" he says wryly.
"He can, but he's gonna have to spill his guts sooner or later," you smirk. Dean grimaces at the image. Suddenly the Jameson sloshing around in his gut doesn't feel all that nice. But the longer he looks at you, the worse he feels.
"Trust me, you don't wanna know," he says. He gestures, with the hand that holds his glass, up at his head. "'S not for newcomers."
"Yeah, but I'm not a newcomer, am I?" you quip.
Dean can't help it. He stares at your face. Your damn perfect face. Perfect for him.
His heart clenches with the pain of guilt. With thoughts he shouldn't have. How he'd rather slit his own wrists than hurt his little brother. Not like this, for fuck's sake.
But Dean's got a problem. It's eating him down to the bone.
He wants you. He really wants you. More than he's wanted anything in so long...
"You really wanna know?" Dean asks. His voice is both a rumble and a coarse whisper. His green-eyed gaze falls to your lips.
For your part, you suck in a subtle breath. Your eyes widen, and your body's frozen, suspended in time.
You stare back at Dean's handsome face, overgrown with stubble, like he’s forgotten to shave. And you finally know what he's been hiding for the past few months. Why he sometimes ducks out when it's supposed to be the three of you, hanging out, watching a movie, sharing a pizza, being friends and family all at once.
You sometimes thought Dean had something against you, no matter how many times Sam has said, "That's not it." With one of those pensive looks on his face.
Like he knows something you don't, and just doesn't want to speak it into existence.
But then, Sam would distract you with his hand stroking your cheek. A kiss to your lips, sweet, but with urgency. You like that about Sam. You even love that about him -- how he can be both kind and considerate, but passionate in his affections.
But now, you stare at the eldest Winchester's face. You don't even know what you're thinking.
Dean sees the blush staining your cheeks.
He leans in, slowly. He’s mere inches away from finding out how sweet you really are.
He hears your shallow breath. His eyes flick up to yours, briefly capturing you again. You smell whiskey on him, but it doesn't completely drown out his cologne. His Deanness.
You can feel your face heating up further, down to your neck. What the fuck is happening right now?
"Tell me no," Dean says. Tell me to stop, or I swear to God...
"Dean, what..." you whisper. But that's not a no.
Still, he can't. He just can't do it. Not to Sam.
Dean just reaches out with a hand to soothe a gentle thumb across your cheek. He realizes then that he loves you. He loves you enough to let you go, if he has to.
"It comes down to this," Dean says. His voice is deep, full of grit and desire. You can see it in his eyes. He sees the conflict in yours.
He swallows. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, but he uses every ounce of self-restraint he has left, forcing his hand to fall away from your cheek.
"You've got two choices, sweetheart," he says. And he pulls away, leaving you there at the table.
Dean doesn't know it, but your heart is about to burst just like his. What the hell! How could he do that? Why...
But you realize then, holding a hand to your wildly beating, guilt-ridden, confused heart.
You never told him no.
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AN: I love Sam, don't get me wrong. But because I'm unequivocally a Dean girl, I had to leave it a bit ambiguous. 😏
Read the Sequel!
Here's the requested sequel to this, in which you have to make a choice (contains both Sam and Dean endings):
Imagine: Choosing him.
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supernaturalistthings · 3 months
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Jealousy
Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Warnings: +18 contains smut
Summary: One night in a run down bar Dean Winchester has no choice but to reveal his true feelings
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You could feel an intense gaze on you from across the bar as the influence of alcohol starts moving your hips for you. The bass of the music moves through you as you dance to the song booming through the bar. Your hands floating over your body as you move to the beat flawlessly thanks to the drinks you already had in your system. You feel the gazes mounting and thankfully so as you look up and see a small blonde next to Dean desperately trying to pull him into conversation and pull his eyes away from the girl of his dreams. 
In that moment it was an impossible feat, all Dean could focus on was the sway of your hips, how your hands roamed over your clothed curves gathering the attention of anyone with a pulse and eyes. His hands clenched his beer while the tone of the blonde standing next to him gets blurred into the music and he starts to notice how many eyes are on you. The girl dancing, his girl dancing. He excuses himself without even looking in the direction of the blonde next to him and starts to shimmy his way through people to get to you.
His breath is caught in his chest as he finally reaches you holding out a hand to stall you in your place from dancing to the song booming throughout the bar. He looks cold into your eyes and firmly says
“Lets go”
“Where?” you reply
“Anywhere but here”
“Thought you were busy” You say scanning over the bar looking for the girl that was previously trying to get Dean's attention, as Dean grabs your arm and starts dragging you towards the exit.
“Busy trying to get your attention, but clearly plan A failed. B it is i guess.” He says gruffly and without a glance, as the cold air of the night spreads over you and the bar door slams shut behind the both of you. Dean is still dragging you along the way. However his hand moves from your forearm to your hand. He's gripping you tight as you start to walk upon the 67 Chevy impala.
He flings open the passenger door and guides you in with an air of annoyance. You watch as he walks back to the driver side through the windshield, he flings his door open and slides in. The silence is tense and can be cut with a knife as the engine roars to life and he speedily pulls out of the bar parking lot.
“You started this” you say finally cutting the tension without taking your eyes off the road speeding beneath the car
He shoots a glare over and readjusts his grip on the steering wheel
“Yeah well I'm finishing it too..” He shoots back without tearing his eyes from the road. “I'm tired of this game… you're mine, I'm going to give you a reason to start acting like it.” His knuckles tighten on the wheel, and the gas slightly accelerates.
Your mouth goes slightly aghast as you take in his side profile. As you take in him. Dean claimed that you both not being officially together was something created for your own safety. That he couldn't chance losing you but right now that didn't matter. You could tell by the grip he had on the steering wheel and the shade of green his eyes were. You belonged together, and in this moment more than ever. 
The car slows to a stall and the engine abruptly shuts off when you’re finally broken from your thoughts and feel your door open. You turn and see Dean waiting with his hand out for you to take. The annoyance has mostly left his face and all that is left is desperation. You slowly reach for his hand and he lifts you out of your seat and shuts the car door behind you as you both walk hand in hand to his motel room. No dragging, no annoyance, all of that was left at the bar.
He messes with the key for a second and the door opens and you both step inside and the instant it's closed and you can feel the hardness of it pressed against your back. Dean has his hands firmly on your shoulders holding you against it. Your breathless staring into eachothers eyes as he hesitantly leans forward and presses his lips to yours in a way you haven't felt before. It was passionate, tender, dare you say loving. His hands slide up the sides of your neck and tangle in your hair as the room is filled with soft moans and the slight sound of your hips moving back and forth from the door as you press against him.
He reaches for your thighs and pulls you up to straddle his waist. One hand stays on your thigh after you lock your legs around him and one travels around your waist, holding you as he crosses the room to the bed. He holds you as he leans over and gently lays you on the bed. The kiss never breaking. His arms cage you as he kisses you from above and it feels heavenly. He pulls back and his eyes flutter open and breathlessly whispers 
“You're mine…and I'm yours, and that's just the way it's going to be from now on” he softly brushes his fingers along your cheek and into your hair looking deeply into your eyes. The way he looked at you spoke everything you had been dying to hear. You cross your arms around his neck and bring him in for another kiss and then stopping again to answer 
“Sounds good to me”
He smiles brightly and seals the space between the two of you once again. He reaches for the hem of your shirt and you lift yourself slightly so he can pull it over your head. He tosses it to the floor and runs his hand down your torso cupping and pulling at your bra while stabilizing himself with his other hand.
You run your hands over his bare chest and stomach before toying with the waistband of his jeans. He takes over and slides them down and kicks them off somewhere. You're both breathless and desperate to feel every inch of each other. The kiss is feverish. Intoxicating.
He rolls you both over so you're on top, he pulls at every curve on your body. He leaves wet kisses all over your collarbone and chest while he easily undos your bra and it joins the rest of your clothes on the floor. His hands are everywhere, over your chest, around your thighs. He slips his hands into your pants and cups your ass and rocks your hips against his. You grab the waist band and roll them off of you having to stop straddling him to do so and the second they are stripped from your body you're pulled right back into his strong arms. You're wearing nothing but your underwear when he breathlessly breaks the kiss when he says,
“You're so beautiful”
It’s whispered so delicately against your lips, and you savor every syllable. Your eyes flutter closed and your lips reconnect as he lays you down with himself between your legs. He runs his hand between the small space between your bodies and to where you need him most. He can feel a slight wetness seeping through your panties and says 
“You're still wearing to many clothes”
He rubs small circles over your clothed clit. You're a mess with your head thrown back and moaning like crazy. Deans watching your face contort in pleasure and he can't help but feel proud of himself knowing he can make you feel better than any other man. He finally slides your panties down your legs and playfully throws them as far as he can. He's smirking and his thoughts are swimming when he reconnects your lips with his. He is full of passion and hoping that any fraction of what he's feeling is being conveyed through his kiss and his touch. 
His hands are running down your body and so is his mouth, leaving a trail of wet kisses and soft marks behind. You're his now. He places his mouth over your wetness and makes love with his tongue. Licking and kissing until one of your hands is running through his hair and the other is gripping the sheets for dear life. His name drops like hymns from your lips and it only fuels him to get you to the brink.
“You taste amazing" he looks up and says. He fully takes in your state. How desperate you are for him and it hits him even harder that he is the only man he ever wants you to look at like that.
He crawls up the length of your body and deeply looks into your eyes before leaning in and kissing you. You’re breathless and you take him into your hands and start pumping. You’re moaning into eachothers mouths. Dean feels euphoric. Between his feelings and the way you actually feel, he’s high. He takes himself from you and teases your entrance before fully inserting himself inside you. Both of your foreheads connect and his eyes are squeezed shut from the tightness. He kisses you softly and pulls away for fear he might not be able to breathe.
You're looking into eachothers eyes, the only illumination being the lights from outside seeping through the cracks in the motel curtain. He's never looked so beautiful. 
“You're gorgeous” you say, it being the only thing you can conjure at the moment.
He smiles softly still maintaining eye contact and even in the dark you can see color tinge his cheeks. He couldn't comprehend this was real. He starts moving slowly in response. Thrusting in and out. The heat and sweat is mounting between the two of you. You're both moaning messes. Each other's names falling from both your lips in praise.
Your back is arched and you're leaving marks on his shoulder from how hard you're gripping him. His thrusts become sloppy from just how amazing he feels, how you're making him feel. 
The tension in your stomach is building and you don't know how much longer you can take it when suddenly you cant anymore. You cum hard around him, squeezing every inch of him as he thrusts in and out. His own undoing building. He's thrusting deep and grunting hard when you then feel him spilling out of you. You're both moaning and looking deeply into eachothers eyes. He slows his pace to almost nothing and you're lost in eachothers eyes for good you must think, and don't mind either. He cuts the silence by saying, 
“I guess I should've done that sooner” still above you and caging you in with his strong arms. He lifts one to start soothing your messy hair and it results in a giggle from you.
“Better late than never” you say in a more serious tone and lean up to give him a peck on the lips. You feel him smile into the kiss and your mind is swimming knowing there will be plenty more to come in the future.
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 5 months
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Let It Out
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Castiel & teen!reader
Requested by Anonymous
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Having two older brothers who fight monsters had its own set of problems. Being a witch doubled those problems. Suffering from a depression that you didn’t dare tell your family about, that just multiplied everything until every little task felt impossible to complete with such a weight on top of you.
You had had a handle on your life for a long time—after all, you were used to the hunting and the lack of sleep and the loss. That is, until a certain archangel friend of yours died. That was when your depression really got going—Gabriel was gone, and it was like his death reminded you of everyone you’d ever lost, and you couldn’t take it.
The worst part was that you couldn’t tell your brothers; they were busy saving the world, the last thing they needed to hear about was your problems. Besides, they had it just as hard as you, if not harder. Why should you make it all about you?
So, you didn’t say anything, and it was taking its toll on you and your skill set. Magic was dependent on emotions, and yours were everywhere.
It wasn’t just your magic that was changing; school wasn’t going so well either. The boys were too busy to have noticed, but your grades were dropping and—
“Y/N?” Sam’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, and you turned to see him holding up a piece of paper. When you caught a glimpse of the front, your stomach dropped. It was your report card. “What’s this?”
“I-um…” you had nothing to say.
“You can do better than this. Much better. We both know that, so what happened?”
“I-I just…got distracted.”
“Distracted?” You hadn’t noticed Dean in the corner of the room until he stood up and spoke. “By what, hunting? I thought you agreed, school comes first.”
“It does!” You insisted. “I just—“
“If you can’t do both, you know which one you’re dropping,” Sam said.
“No!” You panicked. Hunting was the only outlet you had for your powers, and right now your powers were the only outlet you had for your grief.
“We agreed!” Dean insisted. “You said you would drop hunting if you can’t do both.”
“But I can!”
“This says otherwise.” Sam waved your report card.
“That’s not fair!” You cried. “One report card doesn’t-“
“Your grades have been dropping for a while,” Sam interrupted. “I just didn’t think they would get this bad. I should’ve mentioned it sooner, I just…” he sighed. “I thought it would get better.”
“It will! Don’t stop me from hunting,” you pleaded.
“You’re not giving me much of a choice!”
“Sam, you can’t—“
“That’s enough,” Dean barked, and you both shut up. “We made an agreement, and you’re going to honor it. Until the grades go up, you’re not hunting.” Dean slung his bag over his shoulder as he spoke. “We’ve got work to do. You stay here and study for that test you told me about, understand?” Dean’s tone left no room for argument.
“I understand,” you grumbled, unable to look him in the eye, whether from anger or sadness you weren’t sure.
“Good.”
Your brothers were gone without another word.
As the Impala’s engine started up and the boys drove away, your hands curled into fists and you let out a yell of frustration. You jumped in surprise when the table next to you fell over. Did you bump it? You didn’t think you did.
Maybe you needed to pay closer attention to your powers. Or maybe you just needed to put them to good use.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” Dean demanded.
“I think I’m saving your bacon!” You retorted before casting a spell on the closest ghoul.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Sam insisted before taking a headshot at the ghoul heading for Dean.
“You’re welcome,” you grumbled as Dean shot the ghoul that you had petrified with your spell.
“Y/N behind yo-“ a third ghoul pounced on you before Sam got the chance to warn you.
Dean tried to aim at it, but he couldn’t get a clear shot without risking hitting you.
Sam jumped into action at your cry of pain. The ghoul had bitten into your shoulder before Sam managed to tackle it off you.
As soon as you and Sam were clear, Dean blasted the ghoul’s head off.
“Y/N?” Sam was by your side in an instant, peeling the fabric of your shirt away from your bleeding shoulder, cringing when you cried out in pain. “Ok, you’re ok, you’re gonna be fine.”
“That was crazy,” Dean grumbled as he knelt next to you to examine your injury. “That was really stupid, kid.”
“I-I didn’t see him,” you cringed. “I-I’m sor-“ you broke off with a cry of pain when Dean lifted your head, jostling your injured shoulder.
“You shouldn’t have even been here,” Dean sighed, glaring at you. “And I thought you got that guy with a spell! Your magic doesn’t seem to—“
“Dean, she’s bleeding a lot,” Sam interrupted quietly, glancing nervously at the growing puddle of blood beneath you. “I think we should try for Cas.”
“Hey Cas,” Dean stepped away from you to talk to the angel. “Cas, we need you over here! Y/N’s hurt pretty bad. Can you—“
“I’m here.” Sam jumped in surprise when Castiel appeared next to you.
“Cas,” you croaked, whimpering when Sam moved to make room for Cas.
“Shh, it’s alright little one. This won’t hurt at all.” Cas placed two fingers on your forehead, and your wound slowly sealed itself with a blue glow.
“Thanks Cas,” you breathed as you slowly sat up, rubbing your shoulder as the pain slowly went away.
“Cas,” Dean spoke up. “I think her magic’s gone all wack, can you—“
“Dean, I’m fine, really,” you said. The last thing you wanted was your brothers looking in too deep to why your powers seemed to be failing. You would look weak.
“Her powers aren’t anything physical,” Cas said. “If they’re not working correctly, she either mispronounced the spell, or she’s not in the correct mental state to perform magic.”
“Cas.” You wanted to interrupt him, but it was too late.
“Y/N.” Dean stepped closer to you, and you ducked your head to avoid his gaze. “Sweetheart what’s he talking about?”
“I’m fine.” Your voice came out small and timid.
“Y/N, talk to me.” Sam stepped forwards.
You shook your head, blinking hard and fast in a failed attempt to keep the tears at bay. Your hand unconsciously sought out something to hold onto, and your fingers clamped onto Cas’s trench coat.
“Are you alright?” Cas’s gentle voice was the only invitation you needed, and you practically flung yourself into his arms, burying your face against his shirt as your tears began to fall. Cas froze for a moment, unsure of what to do, but slowly he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you tightly against him.
“It’s alright,” he soothed. “It’s ok, I’ve got you little one.”
“I can’t do this anymore,” you sobbed, clutching onto Cas like a life preserver. “I-I miss Gabriel. And-and Joe and Ellen, and my-and my dad.”
“I know,” Cas sighed. “I know, it’s ok.”
“I didn’t mean for it to mess up the hunt.”
“It’s not your fault,” Cas promised. “You’re allowed to feel like this. It’s ok to feel sad, it’s ok.”
“Maybe we should take her home,” Sam cut in.
“Don’t go.” Cas’s heart constricted at your whimpered plea as you held on even tighter to him.
“I won’t,” he whispered to you before looking at Sam. “Go on, I’ve got her.” With that, Cas disappeared with you.
You jumped in surprise when you arrived suddenly in your room.
“I’m sorry,” Cas said. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”
“I’m ok,” you sniffled, still unwilling to let go of Cas.
“Ok.” Cas smiled. “Would you like to lay down?”
You nodded, and Cas led you over to your bed and let you lean on top of him after he laid down.
“I’m sorry,” you said finally, your throat constricting as the tears returned.
“Don’t ever apologize for what you’re feeling,” Cas said, wrapping his arms around you. “You can let it out now, you don’t have to hide it.”
“I just don’t want Sam and Dean to think I can’t do this,” you cried.
“You can trust them. You don’t have to be alone with this, you never do.”
You didn’t respond, and Cas didn’t push it. He held you in his arms and you finally let out your years upon years of tears that you hadn’t let yourself cry before. Eventually you fell asleep, and still Cas didn’t move.
Most times when he was needed, it was so he could heal your or your brothers physically, and that was easy for him. This was much harder; he wasn’t well versed in human emotion, and he wasn’t all that sure that he was helping you correctly, but he sensed that his presence was all you needed.
So here he would stay.
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TL;DR: the bee movie
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impala-dreamer · 8 months
Text
Every Inch Of You
A Supernatural Story
Dean Winchester x F!Reader
1537 Words
Warnings: NSFW. Romance and Fluff and Fucking
A/N: I can't even give this a summary. It's just romantic and lovely.
Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works
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It started with a kiss.
Wet and warm, Dean slid his lips against yours so softly that it stole your breath and left you needing more. You wanted him in the worst way, needed him to ram you into the wall and knock away the day, erase the frustrations, ease the pain.
When he pulled back, he looked down with a smile; green eyes bright and focused on your face. The beauty of Dean Winchester in the soft glow of the Library lights was something you’d never get used to, and here it was again, slapping you in the face. Each freckle stood out begging to be kissed, every eyelash fanned out like they were made of thick silk, screaming for your fingertips.
He laughed softly at your look of shock. “What’s wrong?”
You hummed up at him, a little dizzy and unsure as lust clouded your brain. “Hmm?”
“You almost look sick. Usually I don’t cause that kinda reaction with a kiss.”
His grin was impossibly cute, horribly innocent, and you reached for him, cupping your hand around the nape of his neck and tugging him back down.
You licked at his lips and your shock transferred over to him. His brows raised, his breath hitched. His eyes fluttered closed and he pushed himself into you, wrapping his arms around your back. You moaned into his mouth, licking in deep and Dean bucked his hips unconsciously, his entire being reaching out for you.
Stepping back, you drug him along, curling your fingers through the short hairs at the back of his head until the table hit your ass. You bit down on his plump bottom lip and Dean’s hands slid beneath your arms, lifting you up to perch on the edge of the table.
The glow from the lamps danced across his face, shadows and light moving to darken his gaze and drive you crazy. He bent to nip at your pulse, hands trailing down your spine. You hooked your fingers into his jeans and tugged, pulling him between your thighs where he belonged. The heat was growing between you; the damp, throbbing desire calling to you.
“Dean…”
The tip of his tongue traced the shell of your ear. “Yeah, baby?”
Your nails dug into his hips, scraping, begging. Your teeth plunged deep into your lip, your pulse raced beneath his lips.
“Take me to bed?”
An earthy growl rumbled up from his gut and he exhaled hard against your cheek. “Abso-fucking-lutely”
The trip down the hallway was difficult.
Dean carried you up the steps, refusing to let you go until you kissed him so hard that he had no choice but to brace you against the tiled wall and drop your feet.
He lost his flannel there, tugged roughly from his broad shoulders and left carelessly behind.
Around the first turn, he grabbed your hand and spun you to him, licking at your lips and grinding his knee between your thighs. His big hands splayed across your lower back and between your shoulder blades, giving you no room for escape.
Your tshirt was cast aside, abandoned in a dusty corner and forgotten about.
The trek seemed endless. Around mile thirty-seven, you gasped as Dean attacked, coming up behind you and sinking his teeth into the crook of your neck. He sucked a tiny mark as his hands groped and pinched at your tits, adding gasoline to your pyre.
“My place or yours?” he asked, breath like fire on your skin.
Spinning, you took a little payback, reaching up beneath his dark gray tee to tweak his nipples. His jaw dropped and his eyes rolled; his hips jerked forward and your back hit the door on the left. Your door.
“This works,” you laughed, kicking a foot back to open the door.
Antique hinges creaked and heavy boots thudded to the floor.
“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he breathed, staring hard as you slipped the denim from your hips.
Teasing, you batted your eyes and ran your fingers through the tiny elastic hem of your panties. “Yeah?”
Hypnotized, he struggled to open his belt. “Yeah… Goddamn, baby- so fucking hot…”
Helping out, you danced up next to him and whipped the leather from its buckle, popped the brass button, and tucked your hand inside, palming his erection.
“Oh, you do wanna fuck me, don’t you?”
He hissed and nodded, lost in the motion of your hand as it slid up and down his shaft.
“How bad do you want me?”
Like a switch had been flipped, Dean’s eyes snapped open and his jaw set tight. He looked down and grabbed at your waist, yanking you to him as he took a step towards the bed.
“Bad.” His teeth grit, his eyes narrowed.
Your heart skipped. “Really bad?”
His fingers tightened on your flesh, near to bruising as he growled, “More than anything.”
Dean pushed you down and you were weightless for a moment, airborne as you flopped down onto the mattress. He was right there with you, covering you with his full weight as he pounced down and nipped at your lips. He was hungry, hot, and rough. His cock pushed through the slit of his boxers and rubbed hard against your covered cunt. Damp heat dripped down, softening the fabric and egging him on.
“Please, Dean…”
The prayer fell from your lips without a thought and Dean drank it down, sucking at your mouth as if he meant to suffocate you.
He nipped at your jaw, kissed his way down your chest, nipping at each breast, suckling and teasing.
His touch swirled in your mind, clearing everything else away. The struggles of life faded as Dean’s hands traveled your curves, the worries you carried vanished when his fingers tucked deep inside.
“Oh fuck-”
He smiled at your cry and sank his teeth into your hip. “Mine.”
Your pussy throbbed around his fingers. “Fuck. Yes.”
He twisted his wrist and crooked his fingers, thumb running circles over your swollen clit. “And you know the best part?” he asked, sliding up to tease his breath across your lips.
“W-what?”
Green eyes bore into yours and he smiled. “I’m yours.”
His voice flooded through you and the sweetness was overwhelming. The pleasure broke as he kissed your lips and you came with a deep shudder. A rush of warmth pushed from your cunt and Dean scooped it up, rubbed himself down with it and pushed between your hips.
Your knees spread around him as he sank inside, thrusting hard and deep while his eyes stayed locked on yours.
You clawed at his arms, raking your nails across his shoulders and down. “Mmm, you feel so good, Dean.”
His head dropped, chin resting on his chin as his pace kicked up. “So tight, baby, fuck.”  He shifted his arms at your sides and his muscles flexed beneath your fingertips. “So fucking tight…”
You held on, clenching around him. “All for you, Dean… God, you fuck me so good…”
His breath was ragged, eyes wide, brow pebbled with sweat. “You gonna cum with me?”
Lifting your hips, you jerked back as he bottomed out, and your thighs quaked around him. “Fuck. Yes. Please!”
Teeth bared, he grunted; body tense with effort, eyes dark with lust and determination. “Give it to me… Come on…”
Every thrust shredded your mind, each slap of his thighs against you sent you reeling. Once more floating, you hovered above yourself, lost in his eyes and his movements. When the pleasure broke, you slammed back into yourself, tears springing to your eyes and a cry splitting free from your lips.
“Fuck!”
He fell down over you and buried his face in your neck, panting and fighting against the rapid beat of his heart. Still tucked inside, you felt the gush of heat as it dribbled down your ass and you hugged him close, soaking in the warmth and weight of him.
“You’re amazing,” he whispered, laying lazy kisses on your throat.
“Nah, it’s all you, Dean.”
He grumbled something into your shoulder but gave up, sighing happily and rolling over onto his side. You shifted, turning away, but he reached for you.
“Where ya goin’?”
“Nowhere?” You laughed at the pathetic look on his face. “Over here?”
He shook his head and wrapped his hand around your arm, pulling you back. “No. Stay with me.”
“I’m right here…”
“Not close enough,” he said, shifting to open both arms to you. “I want every inch of you against me.”
Your heart swelled and you rolled your eyes at him. “You’re a mush.”
He grinned, eyes falling closed as you snuggled up against him. “Yes ma’am, I am.”
His knees kicked up behind yours, his chin settled on your shoulder. His big arm hung in the curve of your waist and he held on tight, keeping you secure and warm, breathing for you both.
The smell of him, the heat flowing from him into you, it was all too peaceful and the sweet pull of sleep tugged at your brain. Your muscles relaxed, your aches eased, your troubles cleared. You exhaled deeply and drifted, calmed and loved by Dean and the safety of his strong arms.
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scoobydoodean · 2 months
Text
Everyone (besides the Braedens) is so annoying about Dean in 6.01. In a way, he's almost treated like some sort of exotic animal by other hunters—"the hunter who got out" is considered an impossibility in the hunting world—both from a moral perspective, and from a trauma perspective.
Bobby keeps repeating "You were out" when Dean gets mad at him and Sam for keeping Sam's resurrection a secret, and while there is obviously a loving angle in Bobby wanting Dean (someone he views as a son) to live a long life, the secret is so unapologetically cruel in the face of Dean's grief that Bobby's actions also suggest more personal motivations. This, along with Dean's demand "Good for who?" when Bobby insists he made the good choice, almost lends itself to the idea that this wasn't just about Dean. It was about something Dean symbolized for Bobby. Dean was living proof that hunters could get out, and have families, and live long lives, and this probably soothes something in Bobby as someone who lost his wife tragically right after an emotional betrayal. In "Death's Door", Bobby is implied to have had a vasectomy he never told Karen about. He was the child who ruined everything he touched according to his abusive father, and decided never to have children because of it. Bobby still grieves losing Karen, and he grieves what could have been if he hadn't let his dad get in his head. Like Bobby, Dean is also a person accused of having a corrupting touch, and Bobby is very aware of Dean's self-worth issues (2.22) and I think sees a lot of his own emotional hangups in Dean. So I think it's possible that for Bobby, seeing Dean get to be happy is something Bobby needs... for himself in a sense? While being something he wants for someone he loves, it also just... soothes something inside him, symbolically and personally.
Other characters don't react so positively to Dean as a symbol representing hunters being able to get out and overcome the tragedies that generally bring them into the life to begin with. The Campbells immediately look down on Dean for not being a hunter anymore, treating him as a greenhorn, suggesting he was never meant for the work they do (his features are too "delicate"), poking around his house like it's a zoo exhibit. Sam also joins in, mocking Dean for having golf clubs.
Samuel feigns sympathy, saying he "gets it" because Mary wanted out of the life too, but it's just a little carefully placed pathos before he launches into giving Dean the same speech Mary was likely subjected to repeatedly, telling Dean they need all hands on deck, that he has a responsibility but would rather "play golf" (which is really what shows most that Samuel has zero understanding of why Dean or his own daughter wanted normal lives).
Sam also completely switches up on Dean by the end of the episode, going from justifying keeping his resurrection a secret because Dean was happy, to saying that Dean can't be normal and should return to hunting because he's putting Lisa and Ben in danger by being with them. Of course, soulless Sam flip flops because he doesn't actually care about whether or not Dean is happy. He was going through the motions of wanting Dean to be happy because he thought it was what he should want based on his memories, and he didn't have any emotional need for his brother and therefore no reason to bother him or care that he was grieving someone who was alive. But the moment he saw Dean display the heart of a hero, rushing to try and save his neighbors when all hope was lost, he saw something that he thought would be useful—someone with a heart who might make the "rules" of how to conduct himself more clear. Dean then seemed like a useful asset.
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pinchofhoney · 8 months
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Because I wanna spread the "we need more Belphagor" message, how about something with him? Platonic or romantic is your choice but we need more content for him bc he's so :))))
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on the verge of a fever
belphegor x fem!reader
word count: 2.7k
warning: the way his character appears in the show has been changed for the purposes of this story; basically, here god is not trying to ruin the whole world, mention of drinking alcohol
summary: Ever wondered if Hell hosts Monopoly nights?
a/n: belphagor is my spirit animal. when you text me, it's the person who writes you back lmao my profile currently looks like a fan club of your requests, but it's not my fault that my obsession with this series is back and you're the only one with ideas related to it. i hope you enjoy it!!<33
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
Guiding Sam and Dean towards the bunk stairs, you couldn't help but notice the genuine concern etched on Sam's face. He leaned in, his tone brimming with sincere care, and gently reminded you, “You know, if you ever need a hand, just remember that Castiel is just a phone call away.”
This morning's awakening had thrown you a curveball. At first, you brushed off the strange sensations coursing through your body, thinking they were caused by the aging mattress beneath you. Yet, with each passing moment, that peculiar feeling escalated into something far more troubling. It clung to you like an insistent itch, impossible to ignore, casting an unsettling shadow over your day.
Now, wrapped snugly in the comforting cocoon of your soft, pink blanket, you found yourself ensnared in the relentless grip of a fever. Your body radiated heat, and every movement became a battle against the oppressive weight of illness. The sole lifeline keeping you tethered to the realm of the living was the medication within easy reach.
Summoning a faint smile, you struggled to reassure Sam, who always kept a watchful eye, despite the fatigue evident in your voice. “I'll handle it,” you whispered, your words carrying a hint of exhaustion.
Trying to make the serious mood a bit lighter, you couldn't resist adding a touch of playful sarcasm. “Well, maybe you should head out before your God buddy decides it's time to disappear once again.”
After saying goodbye to the Winchesters, you headed back to your bed. You didn't want to bother Castiel with your problems; you knew he had more important things to worry about than a grown-up hunter catching a simple cold.
As you entered your room, you couldn't help but grumble to yourself. Why did it seem like Sam and Dean never got sick? You were used to risking your life to hunt supernatural creatures, and now, on top of that, you had to deal with a fever. It just didn't seem fair. You plopped down on the edge of your bed, feeling frustrated. This illness was not only physically uncomfortable but also a reminder that even tough hunters like you had to face everyday human struggles.
Ridiculous, you thought.
You took a quick look on the mirror standing in the corner, then let out a sigh of annoyance and laid down on your bed, giving in to a sense of resignation. You didn't even notice when you drifted off to sleep.
Hours later, you slowly opened your eyes, hoping to find some relief from the persistent illness that had plagued you. However, as your vision cleared, you realized that you felt even worse than before. It was as if the fever had intensified during your restless slumber, wrapping you in a suffocating embrace.
With a groan of discomfort, you pushed yourself upright, your head pounding with every movement. The room seemed dimmer, and the last rays of daylight coming from the corridor appeared harsh and unforgiving. Your throat was parched, and your limbs felt heavy as if they were made of lead.
Casting a rueful glance at the clock, you realized that time had slipped away during your troubled nap. It was as though the fever had stolen not only your strength but also precious hours from your day.
You came close to grabbing your phone and calling Castiel, but you resisted, refusing to give in to a moment of vulnerability – or so you tried to convince yourself.
Struggling considerably, you managed to shift your legs off the bed and, with an effort that would make an elderly man with mobility issues proud, you stood up. Your own sigh of discomfort mirrored the sound one might expect from someone in such a situation. You briefly caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, mentally noting how pitiful you appeared, before making your way into the hallway, your feet dragging wearily behind you.
The bunker had settled into an eerie quietness, broken only by the weighty sound of your footsteps. As you made your way into the main room, your initial plan to head to the opposite corridor was interrupted by an abrupt rustling in a dimly lit corner of the space.
Your tired eyes strained to identify the source of this disturbance. Could it be a mere product of your fevered imagination? You wouldn't be surprised if your illness had started playing tricks on your mind. After all, nobody else was supposed to be allowed in the vast bunker.
And then, right there, bathed in the soft, muted glow of the bunker's emergency lighting, stood a figure you never anticipated encountering. Your heart skipped a beat, your breath caught in your throat, and your fever-addled brain could only muster one thought; Jack. Why was he here? What was happening? Wasn't he...?
“Jack?” you questioned hesitantly, your gaze darting around the room in search of some evidence that you were still ensnared in a dream.
The figure before you smirked. It wasn't the gentle, innocent smile of Jack. It was something darker, more twisted. Your fevered mind raced to find an explanation. Maybe it was the fever. Yes, that had to be it. You were conjuring this surreal scene in your delirium.
“Hello,” greeted the boy, lifting his right hand in a welcoming gesture, mirroring the way Jack used to.
Confusion knitted your brows as you unconsciously took a cautious step toward this familiar-looking stranger, clutching your blanket tightly around you. Your scrutiny intensified as you examined him closely. The person before you was dressed in the same attire as the last time you saw Jack, but it couldn't possibly be him. Jack Kline had met his demise, so why was he standing before you now?
Your gaze wandered to the sunglasses perched on the boy's face, and you couldn't help but shake your head with a hint of amusement. You swiftly turned away, fully convinced that your need for medication was far more pressing than entertaining these unsettling hallucinations. As you made your determined exit, you could almost hear a faint chuckle from behind you.
“Leaving so soon? And here I was, hoping for some company,” the boy, or rather, the entity inhabiting the boy's body, remarked with a sly grin, his voice dripping with faux disappointment. His sunglasses hid the fiery void that should have been his eyes, concealing his true nature as he attempted to blend in.
You paused, feeling an inexplicable mix of curiosity and unease. There was something off about this whole situation, and it wasn't just the fact that you were conversing with someone who looked like Jack but couldn't possibly be him. The aura this stranger exuded was friendly yet laced with an unsettling undercurrent of something more sinister.
“Why are you here?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to maintain composure.
The boy's smile widened, revealing a veneer of friendliness that barely concealed his sadistic amusement. “Oh, I was getting dreadfully bored down in Hell. Thought I'd stretch my legs, so to speak.”
His casual tone and the way he spoke about Hell as if it were a mundane inconvenience sent a shiver down your spine. This was no ordinary encounter, and you couldn't help but wonder if your fever had conjured up this bizarre scenario.
“I'm Belphegor,” the demon chimed in, noting your dubious expression. “Just a temporary tenant, you know? This body was basically vacant real estate, so I thought, 'Why not?' I mean, squatters' rights and all,” he quipped, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders as if discussing his choice of a new apartment. His grin remained as inscrutable as ever, a blend of friendly and utterly unsettling.
You couldn't help but raise an incredulous eyebrow at the demon's cavalier attitude. This was a new low, even for the world you lived in.
“Squatters' rights, huh?” you muttered, not sure whether to be amused or deeply disturbed by his casual demeanor. “Well, congratulations on your, uh, new accommodations.”
Belphegor chuckled, the sound a disconcerting blend of mirth and something far more alarming. “Thanks, I think it suits me. But, you know, I'm not all that bad once you get to know me,” he added with a wicked grin, as if trying to convince you that sharing a body with a demon was just a quirky and harmless coincidence.
Your instincts told you otherwise, and you couldn't help but wonder how deeply the Winchesters were embroiled in whatever bizarre deal this demon had cooked up.
“So, um,” you began, feeling a little like you were fumbling through a conversation with a distant relative you'd rather not acknowledge at a family reunion. The situation was beyond awkward, standing there face-to-face with a demon who had chosen to squat in a body you knew all too well. “Care for a drink?”
If you could, you would have rolled your eyes right then and there, but you had to maintain some semblance of composure. You knew you should be taking action, maybe calling the brothers or attempting to exorcise Belphegor, but your phone was conveniently left behind in your room, and it seemed that the universe had a thing against including demon-killing pockets in your pajamas.
Belphegor's lips curved into a wicked smile, his amusement clear despite the sunglasses concealing his eyes. “Well, aren't you the hospitable one,” he quipped, as if being invited for a drink by the friend of his borrowed body was a regular occurrence.
You couldn't help but chuckle nervously, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. “I figure if I can't beat the demon, I might as well join it for a drink,” you replied with a wry grin, attempting to keep things light, even though your mind was racing with thoughts of what to do next.
As you both made your way to the kitchen, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were walking on thin ice, navigating a situation that seemed to defy all logic. Sharing a drink with a demon in your pajamas was definitely not how you had planned to spend your day, but sometimes, but sometimes you had to improvise.
Entering the kitchen, you were determined to play it cool, all the while keeping a close eye on the boy. You grabbed a bottle of Dean's favorite liquor from the cabinet, figuring that if this was going to be a bizarre demon rendezvous, you might as well make it a memorable one.
“Here's to unexpected company,” you said with a somewhat forced cheerfulness as you poured two glasses, trying your best to hide the anxiety gnawing at your nerves.
Belphegor accepted the drink with a bemused nod, raising his glass in a mock toast. “To unlikely alliances,” he replied, his tone dripping with amusement.
While he was distracted with his drink, you seized the opportunity to grab a glass of water and discreetly pop a couple of fever-killing pills. You hoped that once the medication kicked in, the demon might just decide to take his leave, making this weird encounter nothing more than a fever-induced hallucination.
Sipping your water and pretending to engage in the odd conversation, you silently counted the minutes until the medication would hopefully bring some relief.
As the time passed, you couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was all too real. The fever medication had begun to work its magic, and you felt a wave of dizziness wash over you, courtesy of the combination of drugs and alcohol. Your head was spinning like a top, and you realized that your attempt to blend in and have a normal conversation with a demon was spiraling into absurdity.
“So,” you slurred slightly, trying to focus your blurry gaze on Belphegor, “what's it like down there in Hell? I mean, besides the whole eternal torment thing. Do you guys have, like, a book club or a knitting circle to pass the time?”
Belphegor raised an eyebrow, his amusement evident even through those opaque sunglasses. “Well, it's not all fire and brimstone, you know,” he replied with a mock-serious tone, playing along with your bizarre line of questioning. “We do have our demon potlucks, and occasionally, a game night with some fiendishly fun board games.”
You couldn't help but giggle at the mental image of demons huddled around a Monopoly board in Hell. The combination of fever-induced delirium and the surrealness of the situation had turned the conversation into a comical farce.
“What's your favorite board game, then?” you asked, leaning in closer as if discussing board games with a demon was the most normal thing in the world.
Belphegor chuckled, his sinister amusement undiminished. “Twister,” he replied with a sly grin, and you couldn't tell if he was joking or not.
Lost in the absurdity of your conversation with the demon, you paid little attention to the strange sounds echoing through the bunker. It was as if the very walls were whispering secrets, and you chalked it up to your fevered imagination playing tricks on you.
Belphegor was in the middle of describing a particularly demon version of a summer vacation when a sudden, unexpected voice pierced through the haze of your conversation.
“Y/N” Castiel's deep voice resonated through the kitchen, his sudden appearance causing you to jump so violently that you almost knocked over your glass.
You turned to see Castiel standing in the entrance to the kitchen, his blue eyes penetrating the sunglasses-clad Belphegor with a steely gaze. The demon's expression shifted from amusement to surprise as he realized the presence of an angel.
“Castiel!” you exclaimed, your heart racing as you struggled to regain your composure. “I, uh, didn't expect to see you here.”
Belphegor's amusement seemed to wane as he met Castiel's unwavering gaze. The room fell silent, and the atmosphere shifted from surreal absurdity to a tense standoff between angel and demon.
“What does this supposed to mean?” Castiel asked, his voice steady as he approached the countertop where you were seated, sliding a blade out of his sleeve.
You quickly rose from your seat, wanting to calm the situation. The absurdity of the situation, in which you, in a pink blanket, wanted to defend a demon who could kill you with a snap of your fingers, did not reach you.
“That's Belphegor,” you stammered, your voice wavering as confusion and uncertainty welled up. You realized you had no real justification for the demon's visit. “I-I have no idea why he's here, but he's... uh, he's cool.” Trying to defend the demon only earned you doubtful glances from both Castiel and Belphegor, making this already weird situation even more confusing.
“I've got an offer that might catch the Winchesters' attention,” the demon said as he stepped forward from behind you.
Castiel's expression darkened as he confronted the demon, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Taking Jack's body... this is desecration,” he hissed, his voice carrying the weight of his disapproval. The angel's gaze bore into Belphegor, as if willing him to understand the gravity of his actions.
You stepped in between the two, desperately trying to ease the mounting tension. “Look, I know this is... complicated,” you began, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of the situation. “But maybe Belphegor has something important. We should hear him out before we jump to conclusions.”
Belphegor, for his part, maintained his sly grin, unfazed by Castiel's anger. “I'm just a demon trying to make the best of my situation,” he chimed in, his tone almost cheerful. “Besides, the vessel was just sitting there, collecting dust. I thought it could use some fresh air, you know.”
Castiel clenched his jaw, clearly struggling to contain his frustration. “It's not about the vessel, it's about respect and dignity.”
Before Castiel could retort further, the kitchen door swung open, and Sam and Dean walked in. Their faces registered a mix of surprise and confusion as they took in the scene before them. The room was filled with a charged silence, broken only by the creak of the door.
“What's going on in here?” Dean finally asked, breaking the awkward standoff. His gaze shifted from you to Castiel and then to Belphegor, who was still wearing that boyish grin beneath those stupid sunglasses.
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the-disemvoweler · 2 months
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coward.
According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what 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 father paid 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 took a 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 have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an 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 Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside 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 you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks 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 distinctive golden 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 aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a 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 are small 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 job you 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 have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees.
We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what 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 like outside 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 knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than 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 it and 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 dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against 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 patch six 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 depends on 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 bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move 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 field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into 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. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will 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, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in 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 go to 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 reports of 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 it over 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, more flowers, 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 flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a 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 level out 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 close the window please? Ken, could you close the 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 special skills, 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're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having 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 have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don'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 out is 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 this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to 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 know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as 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 or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with 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 you so 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 believe you 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 saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can 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, talking to 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 deny the 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 decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to 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 parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run 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 that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of 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 have enough 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 bottom of 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 want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for 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 knew what 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 anything that 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 have to 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 goes is 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 leave the 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 brain the 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 this knocks 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're in 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 stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our 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 want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming 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 it in 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 sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-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 race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our 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 kid from the hive. I can't do this"?
Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest 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 attack at 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, size ten 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 here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are 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 worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for 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 with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if 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 humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind 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 Honorable Judge 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 representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all 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 believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood 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 it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some 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 that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any 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 be an 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 crashing through 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 been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a 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 spot on ER in 2005.
Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your 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 on this 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 nice of 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 with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the 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 what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for 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 is your 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 be the 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 bugging me in life. And you're one of them!
Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of 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 you what 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 birth to 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 venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team 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 is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a 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're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if 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 nurse to 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 enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. 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 addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps,?
Living out our lives as honey slaves to 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 honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of 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 way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal.
Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-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 believe how 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 way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked 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 my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why 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 idea what'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 make honey 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 affects the 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 parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'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's greater 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, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got.
Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia. They've got nothing but 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 do is 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 been in 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 have just enough pollen to do the job.
Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have 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 weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable 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 24B please 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 onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than 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 some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is 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 area and 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. Benson and his no-account compadres.
They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn'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 wings and 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 bees doing 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 bees back 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 were on 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 get behind 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 concentrate with 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! - 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 flowers for 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 can on 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 in on 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 plane flying 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 course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available 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, orjust Museum 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 perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! 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 feel like 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 got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number!
:3
Absolutely not
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literally-hottopic · 2 months
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According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what 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 father paid 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 took a 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 have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an 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, distin
guished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside 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 you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks 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 distinctive golden 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 aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a 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 are small 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 job you 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 have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly
functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what 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 w
hat it's like outside 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 knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than 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 it and 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 dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my th
roat, 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 patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybeyou'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 depends on 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
bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move 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 field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son'
s not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into 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. Get a gold tooth and call
everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will 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. Deadifie
d. 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, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got
the sunflower patch in 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 go to 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 reports of 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 fa
st 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 it over 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, more flowers, 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 flowers seems to be on the move. Sa
y again? You're reporting a 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 level out 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 close the window please? Ken, could you close the windo
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 special skills, 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're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having 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 have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don'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 out i
s 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 suppose
d 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 this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to 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 know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as 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 or a
doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with 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 t
eir 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 you so 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 believe you 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 saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can 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, talking to 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 deny the 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! Thinkin
g 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 decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to 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 parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the
roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run 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 that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of 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 have enough 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 bottom of 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 want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for 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 knew what 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 anything that 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 have to 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 goes is 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 leave the 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 brain the 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 this knocks 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're in 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 stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our
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 want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming 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 it in 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 sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-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 race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our stud
io, 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 kid from the hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in
this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest 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 attack at 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, size ten 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 here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are 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 worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for 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 with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if 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 humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind 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
Honorable Judge 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 representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all 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 believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the
bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be usin
g 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 it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some 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 that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own
Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any 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 be an 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 crashing through 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 been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you
haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a 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 spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your 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 on this 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 nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on ou
r 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 with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the 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 what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for 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 is your 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 be the 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 bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't
overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of 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 you what 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 birth to 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 venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of
destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the
honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team 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 is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a 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 t
hink it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if 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 nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some b
ees 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 enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going
to have to consider Mr. 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 addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work c
amps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to 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 honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of 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 way a long time
, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything
more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-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
believe how 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 way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked
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 my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why 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 idea what'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 make honey 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 affects the 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 parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'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's greater 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, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena,
Oalifornia. They've got nothing but 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 do is 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 been in 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 have just enough pollen to do the job. Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have 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 weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the
talking inflatable 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 24B please 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 onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than 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 some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is 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 h
ave a storm in the area and 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. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn'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 wings and 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 bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big dif
ference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back 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 were on 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 get behind 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 concentrate with 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 flowers for 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 can on 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 in on 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 flo
wer. - 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 plane flying 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 course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available 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, orjust Museum 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 perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! 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 feel like 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 got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody.
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artyandink · 4 months
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we could be more | dean winchester | 5
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Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.
SERIES MASTERLIST
A/N - My first OG episode, so enjoy!
DEAD MEN CAN’T SCREAM
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : CAN’T CATCH ME NOW - OLIVIA RODRIGO
“XAVIER NICHOLAS JACKSON!” I yelled. Xavier shrieked, jumping six feet into the air. 
“Here we go.” Sam muttered. 
“She used his middle name.” Dean smirked.
I picked up a pointer stick, slapping it on the sign. “SHOES OFF!” 
“Damn, fine!” Xavier hurriedly took off his shoes. I walked up to him, then smiled sweetly. 
“Thanks, love.” I gave him a kiss, leaving him dumbfounded.
”Welcome to our world, soldier.” Dean chuckled.
”Tough world.” Sam snorted. 
“So, Sammy, got any new cases?” 
“There’s one, and I think Ivy will be interested.” He placed the paper down. “String of murders here, all done by different people with no connection. However, once the murderers were caught, they turned out to be sleeping.” 
“Manner of death?” I asked, rushing over and taking the paper. 
“A knife.” Sam frowned. “In the jugular.” 
“Map it out.” I ordered, gritting my teeth. It was like a switch flipped in my brain. “I don’t care how we do it, we’re finding this dreamwalker.” Sam mapped out the killings, and I took a quick look. 
“Looks like nothing to me.” Dean shrugged. 
“This is Morse code.” I got out a sheet of paper, writing it out. “You… can… run… Ivy. It’s coming back. For me.” 
“T-To finish you off?” Sam stammered, leaning forward. 
“Seems like it.” I exhaled. “It’s taunting me. Telling me to run. I’m guessing that the next killings will spell out ‘but you can’t hide’.” 
“So we find out where. Find out how to kill this thing.” Dean resolved, placing his hand on the map. 
“How many sleeping people will we rifle through before we find this thing?” Sam scoffed. “We can’t barge into every home on a street and find out who’s sleeping, we’re going to have to try and track a person down, but even that’s impossible.” 
“That also means we can’t sleep.” I sighed. 
“What?” Xavier folded his arms. 
“That dreamwalker is coming for me. It could possess any one of us and the only thing it needs is for us to take a nap. After that, knives galore.” 
“Why knives?” 
“A murderer’s principle of extravagance. Or, a more plausible one, the ability to get the holder caught cause the dreamwalker isn’t gonna put on gloves before going psycho.” 
“And the, uh, neck bit?” Dean asked, pointing to his jugular. 
“There’s an ancient saying in dreamwalker lore everywhere.” I clicked my tongue. “‘Dead men can’t scream.’. The whole point to stab someone’s neck is to silence them. Their screams, their words, thoughts, everything. Cause if you take out part of the airway, you take them out.” 
“How are we gonna find out where it strikes next? Cause so far, the only thing we have is what it is and who it’s after.” 
“I don’t think so.” I drew an arrow from the first killing to the last. “Point A to B. We’re here,” I circled a place on the map, “and all the killings are making its way to us. It’s like it’s been tracking me.” 
“This is a change.” Sam chuckled. “We’re the ones being hunted this time.” 
“It’s not gonna be pretty, Sam.” I sighed. “Wherever we’re going, a trail of dead bodies are gonna follow.”
”That’s not particularly ideal.”
”Didn’t seem like it.” I loaded my gun, exhaling. “Well, we know what has to happen. You guys need to get far away from here, and I’ll deal with the ‘walker.” 
“No. No way.” Dean refused almost immediately. 
“We’re not leaving you.” Xavier agreed.
“It’s not like I’m giving you a choice.” I retorted. “Get in your cars. Go.” 
“You almost got skinned last time you came into contact with that thing.” Sam frowned. “How do you expect to survive this time?”
“I have books, lore on how to deal with something like this. If someone summoned it, I send it back to hell. If not, a destroying ritual will do the trick.” 
Dean scoffed. “You need backup-“ 
“I need space, Dean.” I started sharpening my knives harshly. “You stay close and you might end up with a knife in you.” 
“And if we turn our backs, you could be on the receiving end.” Xavier argued. 
“I know, but if I die, it stops the cycle.”
”You don’t know that.” Sam frowned. 
“Fine.” I gave up, folding the map. “We can all set off at sunrise. Just draw a protective rune with holy water on you before you sleep.”
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However, I had other plans. I waited until the boys were asleep before gathering Sam’s research, stuffing it into my satchel before I grabbed my copy of the house keys, unlocking the door and leaving. I’d decided that the first place to go was the house where it all started, so I could figure out where it went. I ended up in Madison, New Jersey.
“Can I help you, miss?” A local asked. He was old, and I recognised him.
“Arthur Paisley?” I grinned. 
“Who’s askin’?” He retorted gruffly. 
“It’s Ivonne. Rainer?”
”Ivy, dear girl!” He broke out into a toothy smile. “Welcome back. Let me take you for a drink.” We ambled towards the bar, talking. “So, where have you been all these years?”
”On a road trip. I found some family friends and went with ‘em.” 
“The Winchesters, right?” He nodded. “Such a shame what happened to ya family. Little Carter…” 
I breathed out shakily, managing a smile. “Yeah. He didn’t deserve that.” 
“You did what you had to, girlie.” 
“I could’ve done something else.” We entered the bar, which was eerily empty. 
“But you did the first thing that came to your mind.” He vouched. “Lucky that gun was still on your father’s bedside table.” 
I stopped, turning around slowly as my hand slowly went to my gun. “Hold on. How did you know that it was a gun? Carter’s manner of death was kept private by the police. And nobody knew that I was with Sam and Dean.” 
“You’re famous around town, here, girl-“ 
“Cut it.” I snapped, taking my gun out. “And let Mr Paisley go.” 
“Ok.” He smirked. “But I’ll find you again. I need to finish my job off with you.” 
“Good luck.” I scoffed, flicking down the safety pin. Then the darkness disappeared from Paisley’s eyes, and I caught him before he fell, setting him down on a comfy chair before running off. The moment I was sure I wasn’t being followed, I got into my car, dialling Ellen and driving off.
‘Hey, sweetie. Are Sam and Dean with you?’ Ellen greeted. 
“Hey, El. And, uh, no. Just wanted to run a few names by you. There’s more, but I’ll give you a few.”
’Shoot.”
”Edward Sarkis, Pete Barnes, Vincent Wylie, Harry Terman, Lloyd Cole, Mark James…?”
‘I know the names. All seasoned hunters, with a wife and kids. None would stop comparing baby photos.’
”They’re dead, Ellen. I gulped. “Killed like Dad. Then their family was found with a knife in their throat the day after. The one who was blamed was the oldest kid of the family, and they’re all now in a mental asylum.”
‘You don’t think that it’s the same thing that killed your parents, do you?’
”I know it is. The killings spell out ‘you can run, Ivy’ in Morse. I need Ash to help and find a way to kill it.”
’I’ll get him on it. What am I supposed to tell the boys?’
”Nothing.” I frowned.  “If they come knocking or calling, you can’t tell them where I am.”
’Ivy, you know I can’t do that.’
”Ellen.” I begged. “Just do this for me, please.”
 Pause.
’Fine. But you better live.’
“I’ll try.” I shifted gears. “Can you find out a hunter who lives close to the last murder site?”
“Yeah. His name’s Xavier Jackson.” My heart dropped out of my chest as I turned the car around, flooring it. 
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“XAVIER!” I screamed, bursting into my house, but the boys were gone. “Oh my god-“ I got a phone call, and I picked up seeing Xavier’s calling ID. “Zay, where are you?” 
‘A warehouse south from your house.’ I heard on the other end of the line. ‘I told you that you could run, Ivy, but I’d find you. Xavier seems like such a good guy. Why waste this opportunity to save your boyfriend?’ 
“Let him-“ 
‘I know why.’ He chuckled. ‘Because I’ve got your precious boys here with me.’ 
‘Don’t come here, Ivy!’ Dean ordered. ‘I swear, if you do-‘ 
“Dean-“ 
‘Ivy, please.” Sam begged. ‘Whatever you do, don’t come-’
‘See, Ivy, I don’t think you can listen to them.’ Xavier took back the phone. ‘Because you are going to come here. You’re going to come alone, and you’re gonna give yourself up. And I don’t think you can raise your gun again because to kill me you have to shoot your boyfriend. Just like you did Carter.’ 
“I’m gonna kill you.” I growled. “I swear to god, I will do it.” 
‘I’d like to see you try. You’ll find me, but get here by sundown. If not for me, do it for Carter.’ 
“Carter.” I whispered, getting back in my car. I fought off tears, putting the pedal to the metal as I sped off, but carefully not exceeding the speeding limit. I hit the wheel, my teeth gritted. “DAMN IT!” I knew which warehouse Xavier was talking about. There was an abandoned one south of my house here. Nobody cared about it. Nobody thought there was anyone in there, but right now, there were three captive men and one monster. I pulled up at the warehouse, taking a gun out of a compartment under my seat, loading it and getting out, kicking down the door to the warehouse and holding my gun up. 
“Don’t move.” Xavier had a knife held aloft, holding Sam’s head back by his hair. Dean was bound, his head hanging down with his eyes half open. “Put the gun down, Rainer. Come on, do a favour for your boyfriend.” 
“Zay, I know you’re in there-“ 
“Put the gun down.” He pulled Sam’s head back further, so I put my gun down, holding my hands out. 
“You got what you wanted, now let him go.” 
“I don’t think so.” 
“Fine, then take me.” 
“Ivy, no…“ Sam muttered, his eyes barely open. 
“What have you done to them?” I gasped, my fist clenching. 
“Relax, it’s just a sedative.” Xavier smirked. “It’s not hurt them, just kept them incapacitated.” 
“You’re sick.” 
“None of this would have happened if you had just given yourself up. The cycle would stop. I’d leave and never bother anyone again. I was always after you, Ivy, little Carter didn’t need to die.” 
“Wh-What do you mean?” 
“Your anger was powerful to latch on to, but that night you just wouldn’t sleep. But Carter was asleep in the room opposite. I felt his pain, his animosity towards his older sister and, well, I just had to take the opportunity. But, as you can see, my revenge isn’t complete.” 
I was breathing heavily, my body feeling like it was on fire as red hot rage boiled up in me faster than a bullet could travel from point A to B. “I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” We rushed at each other, and I knocked the knife out of Xavier’s hand, ending up a metre from Sam. I elbowed Xavier in the face, punching him so hard that he fell on the floor. I climbed on top of him, punching him over and over, watching blood run down his cheek as heavy breaths escaped my mouth. I pulled out my gun, holding it to his head. I had prepared a replica, which was the one I’d surrendered before.
“Is this what this was about the whole time?!” I shouted, my hand shaking while my finger tightened on the trigger. “You wanted me to take the blame? Why didn’t you do it? My brother was fifteen, fifteen, but you marked him for death.” 
“It’s no one’s fault but yours, Ivonne.” He smirked. “Had you taken care of your family, he’d still be here. Now your two friends are next.” I was pushed off, and Xavier scurried to the knife, picking it up and holding it to Sam’s throat. “Dead men can’t scream-“
BANG. 
BANG. 
A cloud of black smoke escaped Xavier just as the bullets pierced his body, his eyes turning from dark blue to their usual light blue. He swayed, looking down at the two holes in his chest before he collapsed. Sam regained his strength and managed to cut himself and Dean, who was still half-asleep, loose while I rushed to Xavier’s side, holding his face in my hands. What had I done? What had I…
“Zay, please, no.” I sobbed. “We’ll get you an ambulance, anything, just don’t leave me.” I kissed his forehead, smoothing his hair back. “I’m so sorry.” It felt like my heart was breaking all over again, like I was out of control again. I hated it, but I couldn’t escape it. But the dreamwalker escaped… and I wasn’t quick enough.
“It’s ok.” He smiled weakly, reaching up to tuck my hair behind my ear. “It wasn’t your fault.” 
“It was.” I sobbed, shaking my head. “You could have broken free-“
”It was too strong.” He whispered. “I love you so much, Ivy. But I wish we had more time.” 
“Don’t say that, don’t say…” He gently brought me down to kiss him, but halfway through, his hold on me loosened and I felt his arm fall onto the floor, going cold. I sat back up, the bitter truth hitting me. 
Xavier was dead, and it was my fault. 
I screamed, the sound falling deaf on my ears as Sam wrapped his arms around my midsection, trying to pull me away. 
“Ivy!” Sam yelled, but it sounded muffled. Like I’d shut everything out. “Ivy, we can’t help him! We need to go!” I went limp against him, crying my eyes out as the image of the dead body flickered between Carter’s and Xavier’s, lifeless and cold, with the same expression of terror. Please, not again. Not again.
“Yeah, you can’t help him.” Dean smirked, walking casually towards the body. “Another body, Ivy, what a shame. People just seem to be… dropping like flies around you.” The dreamwalker had possessed him, and both Sam and I took out our guns. My hands shook as I pointed my barrel at his forehead; please don’t make me shoot Dean. Not him. “Relax, this is only gonna be for a bit. You’ve only gotten away this time, Rainer. I’m going to complete my revenge someday.” 
“What revenge?” 
“I used to be a vampire.” Dean snarled. “But then my heart was carved out by none other than a gang of hunters, one of them happening to be Michael Rainer. I couldn’t resist it. I went after his family, and I found you, the strongest of the lot that was left. He trained you as well, so why can’t I put that to good use? However, you just couldn’t let me possess you. So Carter was a perfectly acceptable second choice.” 
“Get out of my brother.” Sam snarled. 
“As you wish.” The darkness left Dean’s eyes, and he immediately gasped, recovered and hugged me tightly, Sam joining in. I shook violently, tears still silently streaming down my face as my eyes landed on Xavier’s body in the middle of the empty space.
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”Xavier had gone insane.” I lied, later on, shaking as I sat down in the interrogation room in a police precinct. “I went to visit my old family house in New Jersey when I got the call that Xavier had kidnapped my friends and he needed me to come and save them. We fought, and he had a gun on him, which I stole. I shot when he was about to murder Sam, and then I untied them.” 
“Story matches up.” The policeman nodded. “And injuries suggest the same. I don’t think we can press charges. You shot in self defence, and you stopped a kidnapping. Why you didn’t call us, I don’t know, but you did a good job.” 
“Can I leave, officer?’ I asked. 
“Yeah, I don’t see a reason to keep you.” I left the office, meeting Sam and Dean outside. Dean took me into a hug, kissing my hair. 
“We can take a break from hunting, if it makes you feel better.” Sam whispered, hugging me once Dean released me. 
“No.” I shook my head. “I need a distraction.” 
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I decided to go on a drive alone, ignoring the fact that Xavier had just died. It was how I dealt with Carter and my family, so it didn’t seem much different. Just numb, like I’d forgone emotions entirely. So, yeah, repetitive.
Apart from how people seemed to die around me. 
I got a phone call, seeing that Sam was the caller ID. I picked it up. “Hey, Sammy. What’s up?”
’Look to your right.’ I looked to my right, which had a long abandoned runway on it. There, at the top, was a figure that looked like Dean, tied to a chair yet again. ‘I’ve got him. And I’m gonna ram a car into him, unless you come over here.’
“Are you ever going to leave me alone?” 
‘No, I don’t think I will.’ Just as I was about to floor it, a bullet grazed my head, lodging into my seat. I immediately floored it, wincing at the blood running down my head as I turned the car sharply.
“Did you send that bullet?” 
‘No, I’m in a car.’ 
“This is the worst way to die.” Dean groaned, struggling against his bonds. "Beanie, if you save me, I will personally get you your favourite coffee every day.” 
“Any last words?!” Sam yelled from the car, and Dean thought. 
“You’re a twat!” He yelled back. “That’s right, I used British insults!” 
The car started, headlights on as it revved, driving up towards where Dean was. He looked away, a feeble attempt to brace for impact. Sam determinedly pressed the pedal harder, ready to ram right into Dean-
I drove my car straight into the side of the one Sam was in, glass cracking and flying across my face as dust dirtied my face, the impact knocking the wind out of me and my head against the wheel. The world spun around me as I gasped to get some air, but my head felt heavy. I rested my head on my arms, passing out almost immediately.
Sam stumbled out of the car, the darkness gone from his eyes. He stared at Dean, and then himself, realising that he was barely injured. 
“What happened?” Sam panted, checking himself. 
“You almost killed me!” Dean yelled. “Get me my pocketknife from my jeans and then go get Beanie out of the car. She almost killed herself trying to stop you.” Sam gave him his pocketknife then sprinted over to the Corvette, yanking open the door and picking me up bridal style, turning to Dean. 
“She’s not awake!” He called, and Dean ran over, grabbing a water bottle from my car and taking some water in his hand, flicking it over my face. 
“C’mon, Ivy.” Dean whispered, checking for my heartbeat and breathing. “She’s alive, so that’s good.” 
“We need to get her to the hospital.”
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”She’s not got any major injuries.” The doctor explained to Sam and Dean, who were outside the ward. “Just a few cuts and grazes, and her hand took a bit of a sprain. We’ve cleaned and bandages those, and she’s awake now and almost out of shock. You two can see her.” 
They speed-walked into my ward just as I was sitting up, my hand  kept aloft and bandaged. As soon as I saw the boys, I grinned as they sat down and started showering my head with kisses. 
“Thank god you’re ok.” Sam whispered, burying his face into my shoulder. Dean cupped my cheek, rubbing circles with his thumb. 
“I…” Dean paused, “I am never letting you out of my sight again. You almost died. Again.” 
“I told you, I’m only dying by a knife to the jugular.” I joked, sipping some water. “How long have I been out?” 
“A day.” Sam smiled. 
“So, ready for another hunt?” 
“How does she not remember but we do?” 
“I don’t know, Sammy.” Dean smirked. 
“Am I missing something here?” I asked.
They both pulled out a cake, grinning. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
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But I'm in the trees, I'm in the breeze My footsteps on the ground You'll see my face in every place But you can't catch me now Through wading grass, the months will pass You'll feel it all around I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere But you can't catch me now No, you can't catch me now
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greatcheshire · 1 year
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According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what 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 father paid 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 took a 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 have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an 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 Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside 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 you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks 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 distinctive golden 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 aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a 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 are small 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 job you 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 have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things
work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what 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 like outside 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 knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than 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 it and 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 dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against 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 patch six 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 depends on 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 bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move 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 field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into 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. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will 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, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All
right, we've got the sunflower patch in 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 go to 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 reports of 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 it over 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, more flowers, 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 flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a 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 level out 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 close the window please? Ken, could you close the 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 special skills, 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're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having 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 have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don'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 out is 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 this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to 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 know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as 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 or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with 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 you so 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 believe you 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 saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can 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, talking to 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 deny the 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 decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to 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 parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run 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 that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of 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 have enough 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 bottom of 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 want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for 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 knew what 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 anything that 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 have to 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 goes is 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 leave the 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 brain the 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 this knocks 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're in 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 stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our 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 want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming 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 it in 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 sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-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 race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our 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 kid from the hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest 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 attack at 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, size ten 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 here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are 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 worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for 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 with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if 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 humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind 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 Honorable Judge 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 representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all 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 believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood 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 it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some 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 that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any 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 be an 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 crashing through 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 been a police officer,
have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a 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 spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your 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 on this 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 nice of 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 with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the 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 what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for 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 is your 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 be the 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 bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta
weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of 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 you what 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 birth to 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 venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team 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 is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a 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're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if 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 nurse to 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 enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. 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 addicted to smoke
machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to 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 honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of 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 way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-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 believe how 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 way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked 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 my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why 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 idea what'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 make honey 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 affects the 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 parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the
last chance I'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's greater 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, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia. They've got nothing but 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 do is 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 been in 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 have just enough pollen to do the job. Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have 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 weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable 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 24B please 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 onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than 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 some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is 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 area and 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. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn'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 wings and 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 bees doing 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 bees back 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 were on 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 get behind 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 concentrate with 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 flowers for 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 can on 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 in on 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 plane flying 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 course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen,
everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available 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, orjust Museum 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 perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! 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 feel like 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 got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.
I agree
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zepskies · 9 months
Text
Choosing Him
Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, Sam W. x Reader
Summary: You and Sam have been dating and living together for a few months, when Dean shocks you with a confession. Now you have to choose.
AN: This was requested by this beautiful anon! (And also by my friend! ❤️)
Read this as a stand-alone or see this imagine for context: Dean gives you an impossible choice. (In which Dean is in love with Sam’s girlfriend.)
**Note: This contains two alternate endings: Sam vs. Dean.
Song Inspo: “I’m on Fire” by Bruce Springsteen
Word Count: 4,300 Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, unrequited love, as well as love requited.
Imagine: Choosing him.
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“Dean, just talk to me. What the hell happened?” Sam asked.
No, he implored. Angrily.
But he implored, nonetheless.
Dean was good at being stubborn. In fact, he was a professional. His lips were tight in a frown, his brows just as knitted as his brother’s.
He sat cross armed on the couch while Sam stood, using his hands to punctuate his exclamations, as he often did when he was frustrated.
“Nothing, man. I already told you,” Dean tried.
“No,” Sam said sharply. “She’s actively avoiding you. And you’re taking any excuse you can not to be within three feet of my girlfriend. So either you said something, or you did something.”
Dean looked up at his brother with a heavy sigh through his nose.
They’d been at this for a while now. So long that he was surprised you hadn’t come barreling into the living room already to break up the argument. Because he had a feeling that just the sight of you would shut them both up. (Not in a good way.)
Dean’s throat was tight, his stomach churning with unease, though he tried to show none of it on his face. He could see that Sam was on the verge of losing his shit. Just a hair away from assuming the worst.
And the worst of him.
That, Dean couldn’t abide.
“Look,” he gritted out. “I didn’t do anything.”
Sam paused, tilting his head. He took in a breath that was only slightly calming, enough that he lowered to a seat on the coffee table, across from his brother.
“Then what’d you say?” he asked.
Dean felt even guiltier just remembering.
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Three weeks ago…
You wanted to know why he was drinking alone. Why he’d downed nearly an entire bottle of Jameson in the kitchen on a Tuesday night.
“You really wanna know?” Dean asked. His voice was both a rumble and a coarse whisper. His green-eyed gaze fell to your lips.
He watched you suck in a subtle breath. Your eyed widened, and your body froze. He also saw the blush staining your cheeks.
So he leaned in, slowly. He was mere inches away from finding out how sweet you really were.
He heard your shallow breath. His eyes flicked up to yours, and instinctively knew that he’d captured you. He was making you think about it.
“Tell me no,” Dean said. Tell me to stop, or I swear to God...
“Dean, what...” you whispered. But that wasn’t a no.
Still, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. Not to Sam.
Dean merely reached out with a hand to soothe a gentle thumb across your cheek. He realized then that he loved you. He loved you enough to let you go, if he had to.
"It comes down to this," Dean said. His voice was deep, full of grit and desire. He saw the conflict in your eyes.
He swallowed. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, but he used every ounce of self-restraint he had left, forcing his hand to fall away from your cheek.
"You've got two choices, sweetheart," he said. And he pulled away, leaving you there at the table.
You never told him to stop…but he just couldn’t do it.
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“It doesn’t matter,” Dean eventually answered his brother.
He ultimately couldn’t bring himself to voice the desperation of a drunken idiot.
He met Sam’s gaze directly. This much, he could say.
“All you need to know is I’d never…even drunk off my ass, I’d never hurt you,” Dean said.
Sam turned those words back and forth in his mind. His mouth firmed as he read between the lines, as he so often had to with Dean, who struggled to express the deeper parts of himself. Sam realized then what his brother was finally confessing.
“She loves you,” Dean added, with a self-deprecating smile.
That fell between them for a moment, as Sam rested a hand on his knee and processed all of this in record time. He glanced up.
“What about you?” he asked.
Again, with that quirk of a smile that didn’t reach Dean’s eyes.
“Don’t you worry about that either.”
He got up, clapped Sam on the shoulder, and left him there to continue thinking. Dean passed the kitchen and continued down the hall.
Neither man realized that you were standing behind the kitchen doorway. You’d been about to attempt a bit of stress baking. A chocolate tart, maybe. Or a cheese souffle. Or even the new cherry pie recipe you’d found for Dean. Anything to take your mind off your current predicament.
However, now you knew you couldn’t put it off anymore.
You didn’t want this, for either of them. You couldn’t let yourself be a coward.
Steeling yourself with a deep breath, you left the safety of the kitchen…
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And you ventured into the living room, where your boyfriend was still brooding. He raised his head when he saw you out of the corner of his eye.
“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat. Even now, he was relieved to see you. He also felt like he was standing on unsteady ground.
“Hey, yourself,” you greeted back. You tried to smile, but your heart was in your stomach with nerves. “I need to tell you something.”
Sam seemed to realize what you wanted to talk about. He sighed.
“Look, don’t worry about it. Dean and I talked it out—”
“No. No, because I need to say this. Because you deserve to hear it from me,” you insisted.
You also paused, as you didn’t quite know where to go from here.
Sam’s brows furrowed, but he tried to be patient. He watched your gears turning as thought to thought shifted in your eyes. It was one of the things he loved most about you, how open and expressive you were. He could usually tell what you were thinking…except for today. And the past few weeks.
That was what had him more nervous than he’d like to admit. If a blow was coming, he’d really like to be prepared…but he just couldn’t fucking tell.
Until you began speaking.
“Okay, first of all. Nothing happened,” you assured. You rested your hands on Sam’s shoulders. He looked up into your eyes, but before he could even nod in response, you kept going.
“Dean was drunk, and I wasn’t. Which probably won’t make you feel all that better, but the point is, all I did was ask him what’s wrong? And he didn’t want to tell me. But then I pushed the issue, as you know I do sometimes. I’m working on it, I really am.”
You levied a finger at Sam, at which he could only nod. Again, before he could offer a reply, you kept going.  
“Well, finally he was all, you sure you wanna know?” you said, mimicking Dean’s deeper voice. Sam was tempted to smile, if but for what you were actually saying, and the way your gaze averted from his.
“And there was a moment there when…I thought maybe he might try to…but he didn’t. The problem is, I didn’t say no,” you confessed. Your brows knitted as you revealed how disheartened you felt at that, how guilt-ridden.
Sam’s eyes softened a bit, even though your words stung.  
“I should’ve said it,” you knew. “I should’ve pulled away, but I didn’t. Though in my defense! I was in shock. He was saying shocking things without saying them, you know? And I don’t want to be in this cliché…teen drama-esque, love triangle bullshit! You’re not Edward and I’m not Bella and this isn’t goddamn Twilight. And I refuse to be treated as such.”
You were huffing and puffing by the end of your little rant. Your eyes widened a fraction when you caught Sam trying to stamp down a smile.
“Is this amusing to you?” you snapped.
“Not at all,” Sam said. He shook his head, and with a sigh, drew you back to him with his hands on your hips. You stood between his open legs and grasped the front of his shirt.
“Look, thank you for telling me,” he said. “I know that we kind of rushed this a little. The moving in thing, I mean. It just…it felt right, at the time.”
“Yeah, I was kinda there for that,” you quipped. Your smile made him smile in return.
“Well, I guess I just need to ask you…if it still feels right,” he said.
He looked up into your eyes, still not quite sure what he would find. His heart was in his throat, no matter how many times he cleared it. He was good at looking calm when he wasn’t, and maybe his face was composed, but inside him was a tempest.
You calmed it with one touch. A gentle hand on his chest.
“Sam,” you said. Your smile was beautiful and warm. “After you left Stanford. After what happened to Jess…I didn’t know that her funeral was the last time I was ever going to see you.”
Despite that melancholy memory, your lips soon curved into a grin.
“Well, not for a long time anyway.” You both lightened at that.
Then you became more contemplative. Your gaze wandered beyond him for a moment, lost in the past.
Sam’s hands moved up to your waist and squeezed gently. You came back to him with a brighter expression.
“But when I saw you again, I thought…damn, he’s amazing,” you said with a giggle. “Even more amazing then when I knew him.”
Sam looked down at that, despite his smile. You picked him back up with your hand on his cheek. It was overgrown with stubble, a week or so past when he'd usually shave.
You didn't mind the scratchiness, but you wondered if you'd been distracting him too with your indecision. That thought made you feel all the more guilty.
“I still think that when I see you. Get to wake up next to you, research mythology and symbology and dead languages, and other things that should be impossible,” you said. “So yes, it still feels right for me. Very much so.”
Sam’s more genuine smile lightened you. He nodded and let you tilt his head back, slipping your fingers through his hair. He liked the way you touched him freely, both reassuring and affectionate.
He didn't want to admit it, but he'd been quietly afraid. Afraid he'd read you wrong, that his heart had somehow lied to him. Now he knew that it rang true.
“Okay. Good,” he said. And he reached up to touch his lips to yours.
At least, it was a simple touch at first. It soon grew in passion, becoming a more claiming kiss. He pulled you in flush against him. A hand tangled into your hair, brushing against the back of your neck, and you hummed in delight.
Your hands sunk further into his hair, just as your mouth wordlessly claimed him back. His long fingers trailed down your back and made you shiver against him. You gave more and more of yourself with each kiss.
"I love you," you whispered against his lips. Because he deserved to hear that too.
Sam paused. His eyes were still closed as he recovered some of his breath. He rested his forehead against yours and brushed a tender hand down the soft column of your neck.
"I love you too," he admitted. He had resisted saying it, and even felt a bit ashamed that he'd doubted your feelings. Now, he felt like an idiot for not fighting harder before.
This, what he had with you, it was worth fighting for.
He smiled at the way you kissed his cheek then, soft and slow and with purpose.
After a moment, you pulled away to stroke his cheek once more…and also to tell him one last thing.
“When I saw you again, I did have another thought,” you said. “He’s amazing, but…how can I think that about my best friend’s boyfriend?”
Sam frowned then, as that reality had crossed his mind as well, back when he reconnected with you last year. You held a hand to your chest, over your heart.
“Jess was like a sister to me. So how could I think about you like that? It didn’t matter how much time had passed since her death. That thought, and those feelings still had weight, Sam,” you said. “My point is…try not to be too hard on your brother for this. I think he’d rather lob off an arm than cause you any pain.”
Sam considered your words with a nod.
“I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry,” he said.
“No, I…I’d like to talk to him, if you don’t mind,” you said. “That is, if you trust me.”
Sam’s brows rose, and then furrowed slightly.
“I do, baby,” he said. “You can talk to him if you want, but…I have to. He’s my brother. He should hear it from me too.”
No need, Dean couldn’t help but think.
He pushed off from the wall, twisting a wrench in his hand as he made his way back to the garage.
It stung. Actually, it fucking cut and twisted. More painfully than Dean would ever, ever admit.
However, he knew when he needed to bow out. This was one of those times.
He’d just have to learn how to let you go, for good this time. He wouldn’t risk hurting you, or his brother again.
So once he made it to the end of the hall, he shut the door, once and for all.
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Or…
You didn’t want this, for either of them. You couldn’t let yourself be a coward.
Steeling yourself with a deep breath, you left the safety of the kitchen…
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And you ducked out the back way, heading down the hall.
You found Dean exactly where you’d expected—in the garage, getting ready to work on his Baby. He was sitting on a stool with his box of tools beside him. Tools he didn’t let anyone touch (except for that one time you hid his power drill, just to mess with him).
You crossed your arms.
“We need to talk,” you said.
Dean sighed, and spied your stern face over his shoulder.
“What fucking now?” he muttered. You didn't quite hear him, but you recognized his surly frown.
“Yes, right now,” you said. “Why did you do it?”
“What?” Dean asked, raising incredulous brows. “Why?”
“Yeah, why.” You stepped up to him while he swiveled in your direction. “If you supposedly had feelings for me, why did you wait so damn long? Why did you wait until we got here?”
You weren’t just casually dating his brother. You were living with him. Even if it had just been a few months, you loved Sam…and yet, you hadn’t pushed Dean away when he almost kissed you.
Why, why, why? you thought. Your teeth ground together when you thought of how tenderly Dean had touched you. The fire in his eyes, just barely held back by a thin wall of self-restraint.
“Tell me no,” he’d said.
And now, annoyance made his face tight.
“Look, just forget about it, all right? I was drunk—”
“No. You weren’t that drunk,” you refuted. “I’ve seen you slaphappy, laughing at nothing, grinning like the Joker and falling onto the couch face-first, passed out drunk. You were coherent that night. You were honest. So tell me, how long have you felt this way?”
Dean tensed. He didn’t want to do this. You both knew that, but he also knew that you weren’t giving him much of a choice.
And yet, you were waiting on him, as patiently as you could manage (something he knew was difficult for you). He sighed deeply.
“Pretty much from the beginning,” he said.
“What?” you said, ever so eloquently. You wanted to cringe at yourself. (And you called yourself a linguist.)
Your lips pursed in disbelief. “What part of the beginning?”
Dean glared heavenward, as if that could stop you from asking questions.
“From the first damn second I saw you,” he snapped. The longer he looked at you, however, he couldn’t help but soften. “I remember, you argued with Sam about dead languages, that Latin was for pussies. Ancient Greek was the tougher beat.”
That was true, you thought. And that argument stemmed back from when you and Sam were in college. Ancient history, you could say.
“The Greeks were more fun too,” you added. It triggered a smile to briefly lighten Dean’s face.
“Yeah, you said something about mass orgies,” he said, his brows furrowing.
You bit your lip at the memory. You might’ve winked at Dean with more confidence than you’d felt at the time.
Now, the man shook his head.
“Right then, I wanted to know you,” he said. “Problem is, the more I did, the more I liked what I saw.”
You stared back at him in dismay.
“Why couldn’t you have just told me from the beginning?” you asked.
Dean made a sound of frustration, carding a hand roughly through his hair.
“Oh, and what, break up the show?” he snarked. He waved haphazardly beyond you, to the moose of a man somewhere beyond the closed doors of the garage. Remembering his brother made Dean’s irritation start to fade, back into self-deprecation.
“You and Sam…you’ve got history,” he said. “He’s smart. He takes care of you, protects you. He’s uh, more the boyfriend type, anyway.”
Dean looked away from you then, crossing his arms. You relaxed yours and couldn’t help but draw near to him. A frown took over your features as you tilted your head.
“Okay, Sam and I have history,” you said with a nod. “But…you don’t think you’re smart too?”
Dean’s lips pursed somewhat as he glanced back up at you. You met his stare.
“You don’t think you’re capable of all those other things?” you asked.
Dean didn’t have an answer for you. At least, not one he was willing to say.
For the past few weeks, you’d been fighting with yourself. You’d turned that moment in the kitchen over and over in your mind, and why you couldn’t do what you were supposed to do.
Now, looking at Dean’s face, you understood why your heart broke for him. Why your heart ached with ridiculous longing for him in equal measure.
You knew then that he’d take care of you. That he’d protect you. And maybe…
“Sam and I don’t make a habit of going after the same girl,” Dean said. Even that, it seemed, was difficult for him to get out.
It broke you from your thoughts, again with your frown.
“Yeah?” you asked. A bit of your temper sparked once again. “Is that why you’re making me Yoko Ono? I’ll tell you something right now. You’re not John and Sam’s not Paul and I refuse to break up the band, Dean!”
“No one’s asking you to!” Dean said, finally raising his voice to match you.
He got off his seat and stood to his full height. Though he wasn’t as tall as his brother, he still towered over you. You craned your head up to glare at him.
His green eyes were once again full of fire. You tried to resist it, but that look made a jolt of electricity zip down your spine, and between your legs.  
“Oh, really?” you retorted. “That’s what you want? For me to forget you didn’t shake me the hell up?”
“Yeah, I really fucking would,” Dean gritted out. Even though his heart leapt at your admission, that he’d shaken you up at all.
“Why?” you said. “If you claim to care about me, why would you—”
“Why would you?” he shot back. He gestured at you with a dismissive hand. “The second you saw him, it was like your face lit the hell up. I’m not gonna get in his way. And by the time the you two were together, I just…I didn’t think you…”
Dean cut himself off, turning from you to wipe a frustrated hand over his mouth.
You watched him very closely, all while you made efforts to take in some deep, even breaths. You followed him, and more tentatively, you grabbed onto his wrist to tug him back around.
“Why would I what, Dean? You didn’t think I’d what?” you all but pleaded. Your grip lowered and tightened on his hand.
“Just talk to me,” you said. “Because this is your one and only chance.”
He was reluctant. For once, you could see it written all over his face. Or maybe you were just getting better at reading him.
“It’s fine. I’ve made my peace with it,” said Dean.
Liar.
He shook his head and slipped his hand out of yours.
“At the end of the day, you saw him, not me,” he said. “So go back upstairs, and we’ll never have to talk about this again.”
Your frown deepened as he sat back down and tried to turn away from you. You were so goddamn mad. At yourself, or at him, you didn’t know what percentages of each.
So you closed the distance between you and Dean and turned him back around, with a firm hand on his shoulder. Even with that small touch, your insides fluttered at the firm muscle there, and the broadness of his frame when he let you move him. He blew out an exasperated breath.
You wavered just slightly, as you contemplated the confession you were about to make. It shamed you, but at the same time, you were woman enough to admit your mistakes.
“I did see you,” you said, meeting his eyes. “But Sam never hesitated to show me what he wanted. And maybe…maybe he was safer. Familiar, and less dangerous.”
Dean’s brows furrowed, incredulous and confused.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked.
You couldn’t fault him for it. Your hand eased on his shoulder.
“Dean, seeing Sam again was like getting my best friend back,” you told him. “Back in college, we were thick as thieves. Me and Jess, Sam and Brady. And when you two found me to help with that case, I wouldn’t have ever seen him as anything more than my friend…until he did something about it.”
Your gaze was pointed. Dean’s lips pursed.
“When I met you,” you continued, “it was like the Godfather ‘thunderbolt.’ When you flirted with me, I didn’t know what to do with myself…whereas with Sam, I could fall back on my old habits.”
Dean’s face knitted further, making you sigh.
“With Sam, I’m the person I was when he knew me. The me that never faltered. That had all my shit together,” you said. Your small smile then was self-deprecating at best.
You felt vulnerable. Dean could see it in the way you held yourself. It was costing you something to be this honest, and that meant something to him. His face might've been stoic, but he was hanging on your every word.
“With you…with you I can’t hide," you said. Your voice was softer, slightly trembling. "And that terrifies me, more than monsters.”
Looking into Dean’s eyes again, you found him actually listening. He seemed to be digesting your words, and trying to make sense of them. You reached for him, clenching a hand in his shirt.
“So what was it that you thought I wouldn’t do?” you asked.
Dean studied your face a moment longer. He hesitated.
But he couldn’t keep lying to you either. What you’d just said gave him hope that he wasn’t about to fall flat on his face here.
With a deep, defeated breath, he shook his head and leaned his elbows on his thighs.
“I just got to thinkin’…” he said. “Why would you give up what you’ve got with him, for me?”
You didn’t know quite what to feel when you looked down at him. Disheartened, sympathetic, annoyed…but most of all, you felt your heart clench.
Your hands framing Dean’s face brought his eyes back to yours. You stepped in between his open legs.
“I’m going to try something. Just once,” you said, biting your lip. “And if it doesn’t work, we won’t speak of this again. Understand?”
A true smile finally twitched at the corner of his mouth.
“All right,” he agreed. You nodded.
Slowly, ever slowly, you leaned down and brushed your lips with his. It was chaste and sweet. Your hands were soft curving along his jawline. His hands found their way to your waist, molding to your shape. That steadied you, and encouraged you to dive back in.
You tilted your head and kissed him a bit deeper. He held you more securely against him, like he was afraid you were going to think better of this and pull away from him.
But you didn’t. His lips were soft and supple and knew how to move against yours. He soon guided you down for a seat on his strong thighs, even though the stool he was sitting on creaked at the added weight.
Then his tongue begged entrance past your lips. If this was his one chance, then damn it, he was going to make the most out of it.
You let him in with a moan. Your fingers tangled in his short hair, your nails dragging down the back of his neck and making a tendril of heat run down his spine. He squeezed your hips, down your thighs, while his lips continued to ravage yours.
It was one hell of a kiss.
But it wasn’t just lust either. At least, not for you. It was warmth, and an overwhelming feeling being right where you were always meant to be.
For Dean, it felt like a craving he wasn't meant to indulge in...but even so, having you in his arms felt as natural as he feared it would be. He didn't just want you. He wanted this. Today, and every day.
When his lips finally dragged away from yours, it took you a moment before you could even open your eyes, let alone catch your breath.
“Damn it,” you whispered.
Dean chuckled, and pulled back just far enough to graze your cheek with his curled fingers.
“Guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said. You smiled, but it soon fell.
“Oh God, Dean. What’re we gonna do?” you asked. Already there were tears stinging in your eyes. And still, you held him back with your arms curled around his neck. “I don’t want to hurt him.”
Dean’s relief, and a hidden swell of happiness, also dimmed. “That ship’s sailed, sweetheart."
You sniffed, wiping at your face. “Don’t joke right now, please.”
“I’m not joking,” he said. He held you a fraction tighter. His deep voice rumbled, with desire, longing, and remorse all at once. “I’m actually serious beyond fucking belief.”
You saw everything you needed to see in his eyes. It gave you the strength to be honest.
“So am I,” you nodded, sniffling again. “I’ll talk to him.”
Dean shook his head. “He’s my brother. I’ll do it.”
You stroked his cheek, feeling the rasp of stubble against your fingers.
“Together, then,” you compromised.
And with an unsettled breath, you reluctantly detangled yourself from Dean. Before this went any further, you needed to talk to Sam. It was easily one of the hardest things you’d ever contemplated doing in your life.
Dean seemed to have similar thoughts as he let you up, then stood along with you. He dragged a hand through his hair again and heaved a sigh.
“It’s not gonna be easy,” he said. His brows drew together as he considered every alternative reaction his brother might have. None of them were pretty.
You rested a hand on his arm.
“Look, Dean. If we’re going to do this…if I need to leave the bunker, I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work, as long as you’re in this with me,” you said.
Both your gaze and your will were unwavering. Dean didn’t doubt that you meant every word; that you were willing to jump into the fire with him. And that was just a small fraction of what had made him fall in love with you.
He took your hand, and pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of your wrist.
“I’m with you,” he replied.  
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AN: So while it was painful to contemplate both of these scenarios, I hope I did them justice! 🥲
Which ending was your favorite: Sam, or Dean? 😘
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@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
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mattssluttywaist · 1 month
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HALFWAY TO 1K?? I LOVE YALL SO MUCH HERES THERE ENTIRE BEE MOVIE SCRIPT
According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what 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 father paid 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 took a 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 have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an 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 Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside 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 you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks 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 distinctive golden 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 aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a 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 are small 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 job you 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 have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what 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 like outside 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 knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than 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 it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Couple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against 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 patch six 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 depends on 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 bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move 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 field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into 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. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will 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! Congratulations! Step
(Stay tuned for pt 2. next time 🤫 )
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According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what 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! Coming! Hang on a second. Hello? Barry? Adam? Can you believe this is happening? I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs, Your father paid 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 took a 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 have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an 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 City graduating class of 9:15. That concludes our ceremonies And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick our job today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside 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 you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks 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 distinctive golden 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 aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. What do you think he makes? Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. What does that do? Catches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Can anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small 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 job you 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 have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Check it out. Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside 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 knows where, doing who knows what. You can't just decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than 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 it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. Couple of Hive Harrys. Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against 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 patch six 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 depends on 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 bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move 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 field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! Barry, you are so funny sometimes. I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into 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. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. We're starting work today! Today's the day. Come on! All the good jobs will 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! Congratulations! Step to the side. What'd you get? Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Couple 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, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in 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 go to 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 reports of 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 it over 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, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Cool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow, Could be daisies, Don't we need those? Copy that visual.
Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a 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. Chemical-y. Careful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Candy-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! Coming 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 level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Check 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 special skills, 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're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having 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 have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don'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 out is 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. Come 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 this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to 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... Can I... get you something? Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Coffee? 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. Come on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. Where? These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as 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 or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. Really? My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with 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...? Can 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 you so 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 believe you 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 saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can 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, talking to 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 Cinnabon 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 deny the 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 decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to 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 parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run 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 that down to a science. I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? cute 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 have enough 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 bottom of 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 want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Crazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what 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 anything that 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 have to 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 Carl 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 goes is 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 leave the 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 brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead. Check 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 this knocks 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're in 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 stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our 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 want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming 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 it in 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 sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, The Hive's only full-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 Chung. Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. And I'm Jeanette Ohung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, classy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from The Hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus?
Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest 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 attack at 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, size ten 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 here has been a huge help. Frosting... How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are 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 worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for 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 with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if 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 humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind 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 Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Case number 4475, Superior Court of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all 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 believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry?
They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Cloning! 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 it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some 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 that all the time. So nice! Call your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any 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 be an 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 crashing through 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 been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a 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 spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your 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 on this 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 nice of 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 with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the right job. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for 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 is your 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 Chapstick 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 be the 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 bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of 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 you what 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 birth to 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 venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! Adam, stay with me.
I can't feel my legs. What Angel of Mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed Turn Against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team 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 is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a 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're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if 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. Could you get a nurse to 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 enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. 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 addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to 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 honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of 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 way a long time, 27 million years. Congratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Can'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? Cannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how 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 Carl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked 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 my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why 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 idea what'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 make honey would affect all these things. It's not just flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the 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. That just 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 parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the Last Chance I'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. Could you ask him to slow down? Could 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's greater 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, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. Bees. Park. Pollen! Flowers. Repollination! Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, California. They've got nothing but 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 do is 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 been in 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 have just enough pollen to do the job. Can you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Captain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Can I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Captain, 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 24B please 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 onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. Who's that? Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than 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 some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is 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 area and 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. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn'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 wings and 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 bees doing 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 bees back 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 were on 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 get behind 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 concentrate with 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? Come on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for 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 can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Can you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Come 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. Cut the engines. We're going in on 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 plane flying 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! Come 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 course I saw the flower! That was genius! Thank you. But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available 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, or just Museum 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 perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves.
Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Can 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 feel like 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. Can 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 got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Can we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.
-Knife Anon
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impala-dreamer · 5 months
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Tourniquet - Chapter Four
A Supernatural Dean x Reader Series Told Backwards
~Y/N has been by Dean’s side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment’s peace.~
Please see MASTERLIST for full info/warnings/chapter links.
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The Things She Carried
She hadn’t seen him in years. 
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. God, she wanted to so badly. She wanted to run into his arms, bury her face in his chest and fall asleep. She wanted to wake up next to him, count each freckle in the golden light of dawn. She wanted it all, she wanted him. 
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to track him down, drive across the miles and land at his doorstep. She couldn’t imagine facing him after so long away, couldn’t bear the thought that he’d cast her away like some old trinket destined for the bin. 
She couldn’t risk it. She was road-weary and drained to the point of constant pain. Every muscle ached; every bone felt hollow and brittle. She was exhausted in her soul. She was done. 
Late at night she would lie awake and stare at whatever ceiling was overhead replaying her life, her choices good and bad. 
Maybe things would be different if she had run away with him when they were kids. Maybe she should have crossed the little stream sooner, hidden with him in the tall grass until they could escape and disappear forever. Would life be so different? Would they be together? Alive? Would the world still be turning if not for the sacrifices he’d made?
What about the sacrifices she’d made? What about all the days she spent alone, holding herself as blood seeped through her fingers? All the times she dropped everything to be there for him, all the days she spent worrying, all the nights she spent giving him whatever he needed whenever he needed it. Would anyone even remember her when she was gone? Would he?
Fuck him. He ruined one of the most important moments in her life. He stole her chance to say goodbye. While she reeled from his kiss, tried to make sense of his affection, the only other man she had ever loved had died. 
He died and she wasn’t there. He died knowing she wasn’t around. 
Fuck him for that. Fuck him for sleepless nights on the phone calming him down, listening to every trial and tribulation of his life. Fuck him for miles spent rushing to his side to wrap her heart around his wounds, staunch the flow. 
Fuck him for every kiss. 
Fuck him for every touch. 
For every fucking moment. 
The boy with the green eyes. 
Roswell, New Mexico, 2015. 
A string of murders of suspicious nature led older residents to announce that the aliens had returned to take revenge on the naysayers and folks there only to make a buck on the sacred landing spot. 
Y/N hadn’t been able to resist such a ridiculous scene and spent a week there investigating. 
In the end, they were just regular old murders committed by a regular old crazy person. No demons, no ghosts, and certainly no aliens were to be found. 
With nowhere else to be, she hung around the desert for a few more days, enjoying the sun and the dry air. 
She almost didn’t answer the phone when it rang, but curiosity had brought her to New Mexico in the first place, so there was no reason to deny its hold. 
Luckily, it wasn’t him. 
It was Sam. 
“Well, if it isn’t baby boy Winchester.” She laid back on the hood of her car and kicked up a knee. 
“Hey, Y/N.” 
He sounded terrible. Lack of sleep or too much stress, she couldn’t tell. She didn’t know Sam as well. Hadn’t studied him as closely, hadn’t learned every tick of speech, the meaning behind every subtle sigh.
Still, he didn’t sound great. 
“What’s going on, Sam?” 
He hesitated, swallowed hard, shifted the phone to his other ear. “I hate to ask you, I know you’re… Well, you’ve got your own thing going on, but-” 
Her eyes closed, her stomach churned. 
“Is he OK?” She couldn’t stop the tremble in her voice and she hated it. 
Sam cleared his throat. “No. No, I don’t think so.” 
“Shit.” 
Last she’d heard through the grapevine, Dean had died, again, and come back as a demon. She didn’t get a call back then, so for Sam to ask for help now- it was bad.
“I think he’d, uh… really like to see you.” 
The eleven-hour drive seemed endless, but it gave her time to think. 
No matter what she did, he would always be a part of her. No matter how far she ran, tried to hide, he would always win out in the end. It was useless to fight it, stupid to even try. 
Sam had given her directions to their place and Y/N stood outside of what looked to be an industrial hobbit hole.  
She leaned on her car and stared at the hill. There was still time to turn tail and hit the highway. He’d never even know she had been there. 
She fiddled with the chain around her neck, sucked on the metal pendant. It was warmed from her body heat though she always believed it got hotter when he was close. 
“Damn it, Y/N/N, just go in…” She groaned and turned away, too scared to go inside. Scared or mad, she didn’t know which. 
Just as she put one foot in the car, the big doors opened and Sam appeared. 
He was tall and tired, with a shadow on his jaw and worry in his eyes. She wondered vaguely if she had ever seen Sam without that crease in his aura, if he’d ever been truly calm and happy. 
“You gonna come in or-”
She sighed and shut the door. “How’d you know I was here?” 
He shrugged and gave her a mischievous look. “I may have been tracking your phone.” 
“What! Sam…” 
He smiled and then pushed at the door, holding it open for her. 
“You coming?” 
“Well, it’d be stupid to run away now.” 
She followed him into the hobbit hole and through another, heavier door. The first room was basically a dark hallway, four steps down from the outer doors and a few paces to the next. The walls were old concrete and the light was dim. She held no hope for nicer things to come. 
She was very wrong. 
Her little gasp echoed when she walked through the second door. The cave-like entry gave way to an expansive room that took her breath away. A wrought iron balcony met intricate stairs that wound down forever. The room below was set up with a large, map-covered table that glowed, antique computers and machines that looked as if they were sourced from a 1950’s horror movie. 
Clasping the rail, Y/N leaned over a bit, trying to comprehend the size of everything but her head hurt. She looked back at Sam and shook her head, eyes wide with awe. 
“You live here?” 
Sam nodded and shrugged. He smiled at her wild wonder and stood beside her at the railing. “There’s more. It’s, uh- it’s a really big place.” 
“Tell me you have a bowling alley or an arcade hiding somewhere in here.” 
He laughed. “No, but we do have a tv. Well, I do. In my room.” 
Y/N whistled, mockingly impressed. “Wow. Real rockin’ bachelor pad, Sam.” 
He licked his lips and looked down at his hands. His knuckles were pale, fingers cold against the metal. “Yeah, well, we don’t get many visitors.” 
She covered his hand with hers and squeezed gently. “Wanna show me the rest?”
The Men of Letters Bunker was just as impressive as he made it sound. They toured the halls while Sam explained how they came to be there, speaking candidly about his grandfather’s reappearance and how strange it was to finally have a real place to call home. 
She listened to every word, now and then offering a kind word or an interested hum. Her mind was reeling at the enormity of the Bunker. She ran her fingers over the dips between the tiles on the walls, listened carefully to how Sam’s voice echoed off of the cathedral ceilings and back again. She counted their steps, tried to construct a map in her mind so that she could find her way back to the front door, but the path was full of turns and every corridor looked the same as the last. The numbers on the doors changed, however, but they weren’t in any order that she could define. 
They stopped in front of door number eleven, and Sam shoved his hands into his pockets. His gaze narrowed on the gap between the door and the jam. The light inside was on, but he knew Dean wasn’t there. 
“This is his room?” she asked, wanting to push her way inside but afraid to pry. 
Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah.”
She placed her hand on the door and closed her eyes. She wanted to go in and wait for him, be laid out on the bed like some porn star when he walked in, but she knew better. 
The kitchen was impressive in an old restaurant that had never been upgraded kinda way, but the pantry was pitiful. Thankfully, there were a few eggs in the fridge and a half of a loaf of white bread on the shelf. Sam left her to it and she got to work making an utter mess of the counter and stove. 
She didn’t expect him back soon and he hadn’t expected to see her at all. 
“Y/N?” 
Her entire being tensed when she heard his voice and she took a breath, closed her eyes, and turned around. Spatula dripping in her hand, she screwed up a smile. 
“Surprise.” 
Every emotion imaginable flowed over his freckled face and Y/N waited for him to process before saying another word. Green eyes worked her over, lingering on the smudge on her cheek and the mess on her shirt. 
Finally, he smiled. 
“Nice surprise.” 
Her body relaxed. “Is it?” 
“Of course.” 
Dean rushed forward, rounding the giant stainless steel island, and scooped her up into a hug. 
Relief trickled down her spine and she wrapped her arms around him, pushed her face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like whiskey and sleepless nights. 
“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He whispered into her shoulder and held on a little tighter. 
He was big and strong, solid and safe. She melted into him; listened for the comforting, steady beat of his heart. 
The necklace burned into her chest and she smiled. 
After a minute, she pushed at his shoulders but he refused to let her go. 
“You’re gonna make me burn your toast!”
He stood up straight and held her arms. “Toast? You’re making a real big mess for toast.” 
She squirmed out of his grip and turned back to the stove. “It’s French.” 
They sat at the little table in the corner and drowned the snack in maple syrup and butter. 
Y/N couldn’t stop staring at him. His face was thin; his beard slowly sneaking out of captivity. His eyes were dark, lined with red, and he held himself differently, as if every second was painful, as if he was having trouble sitting still. 
He was staring just as hard, shocked that she was there after being gone for so long. 
“Your hair’s different,” he said around a mouthful of French toast.
She cocked her head and ran a hand through her locks. “I guess,” she laughed. “It’s been a while since I cut it. Probably should.” 
Dean shook his head gently. “Nah. I like it.” 
It wasn’t even really a compliment but she took it as one. Her stomach flipped and she hated herself for enjoying such a tiny amount of attention. She was older now, wiser, stronger. She didn’t need his approval or his affection. 
“Thanks.” 
“This is…nice. Thank you for cooking.” 
Y/N laughed and choked down a corner. “It’s terrible and you know it.”
Dean shrugged and took another forkful to his lips. “It ain’t that bad.” He shoveled it in and then cringed, plucked a crunchy bit from his tongue. “I… think there’s shell in this one.”
She grinned. “I’m surprised there’s not more, actually. You know I’m a shitty cook.”
He laughed. “Always have been.” 
“It’s kinda my thing.” 
A strange moment passed between them like an autumn breeze. The air was warm but the wind was too harsh, chilling their cheeks. Y/N looked away, crossing her arms and rubbing her hands up the sides. Dean swallowed and sat back; knife and fork in his fists beside the plate. 
“So, how ya been?” 
Y/N looked around, pretending to inspect the kitchen walls, but only trying to buy herself time to think up an answer. 
“Oh, you know me, Dean. Another day, another highway, another monster to kill.” 
He licked a drop of syrup from his lip. “Musta been busy.” 
She nodded. “Yeah, pretty busy.” 
“Too busy to answer a text? Pick up the phone now and then?” 
Her guts churned. “Dean, it’s not like that…” 
He slumped forward, set his forearms on the table. “Oh, it’s like that. You vanished, Y/N/N.” 
His tone was biting and she shivered. 
“Dean-” 
“You just took off. No goodbye, nothing.” 
Anger was brewing inside and her leg bounced uncontrollably under the table. “Dean.” 
“We burned him. Without you.”
Something inside of her shattered. The words cut through her like a scythe; his tone burned like salt in the sliced flesh. She clenched her jaw, closed her eyes, and tried to push it all aside. 
“You left,” he seethed, upper lip trembling and exposing his tiny canine teeth. She always thought they looked like fangs, always loved the way they scraped across her throat. “We burned him and you weren’t there. I- we needed you and you left. You ran away to God knows where and that was it. We needed you, Y/N. I… I needed you.” 
With fists balled, she stood up, spun away from the table. She bit her tongue so hard she was sure her mouth would fill with blood. 
Dean laughed sarcastically. “Yeah. Walk away again. That’s awesome.” 
Her spine twitched. Nails dug into her palms. 
She tasted blood. 
“So fucking good at walking away when people need you.” 
She snapped. 
“Excuse me?” 
Her spin around was so fast, her hands slammed onto the table so hard that Dean startled and dropped his utensils. Unconsciously, he sat back, putting as much distance between him and the lioness he’d just unleashed. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Her words curled but there was no question. She was giving him a speck of a chance to apologize before she truly exploded. “Well… are you?” 
Dean sucked his teeth, crossed his arms, sat forward. He met her gaze head on. His nostrils flared. 
“You left,” he said again, slowly, venomously. 
Y/N pulled in a deep breath but instead of calming her, it only added to the fire. “You didn’t ask me to stay, Dean.” 
He shook his head, confused. “Huh?” 
“You didn’t ask me to stay, Dean,” she said again, injecting as much slashing accusation into her voice as she could. “You never do. You expect me to show up whenever you want me, drop whatever I’m doing to come meet you somewhere so you can fuck your frustrations out on me then kick me out of bed in the morning. Do you know how many bruises I have from tripping over the curb when you drive away? How many nights I’ve stayed awake worrying about you? Praying for you? Not to mention all the nights I had to stay on the phone with you while you blubbered on about this and that, and your brother, and your angel, and your destiny. Do you know how much of my life I’ve spent waiting on a fucking phone call from you? How many days I’ve wasted just hoping you’d ask to see me? You can’t imagine it. You wouldn’t. Because you don’t care.” 
Anger and guilt flooded his face. He swung his legs around from under the table and stood up, towering over her with a puffed chest and searing eyes. 
“You think I don’t care about you?” He hunched his shoulders, leaning down to let it all sink in. “Is that really what you think?” 
She took a step closer. She wouldn’t back down no matter his size or the angry fire pulsing off of him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 
“Yeah, Dean,” she said sharply. “It is. Because it’s fucking true. You don’t give a shit about me, you never have. I’m just a goddamned Band-Aid for you. Something you put on when you’ve got a booboo and then rip off and toss away. And the one time I needed you. The one fucking time…” 
Dean was seeing red; his blood was boiling and brightening his pallid face. 
“When? When the fuck did you need me so badly!” 
She grit her teeth, showed her fangs for once. “He was my father, Dean.” 
He scoffed. “No. He wasn’t.” 
“Fuck you for saying that! He was my father the same as, if not more so than he was yours and he died while I was in the dark wondering how I could help you. You! You fucked me up in that hospital room and then you left me alone to deal with it. And he died while I was in there! He died and I wasn’t there because I was dealing with you!” 
Dean straightened, but he didn’t move to speak. He only absorbed her ire and let it burn inside of him. 
“Always dealing with you! My whole goddamned life revolves around Dean Winchester! And you know what I got for all the care and time and worry I poured into you? Nothing. I get fucking nothing. I have never been so lost as when he died and you… You didn’t ask me to stay. Didn’t… didn’t check on me. The only calls I got were from you begging me to help with Sam and to meet you in Oswego for a fucking booty call. That’s all I am to you. I’m your fucking whore.”
He huffed, chewed his lip. “That is not true!”
She wouldn’t stop, couldn’t. The simple act of raising her voice, of confronting him after everything had opened a tap that she couldn’t close. 
“And you spent a whole goddamned fucking year with her. A year! I didn’t even know if you were alive, dead, nothing. You promised to call me. You swore. And nothing. You went to her. You- did you even think of me? Did you even think, ‘oh, maybe I’ll go be with Y/N for a while’? Well? Did you?” 
His eyes closed. “No, Y/N. I didn’t.” 
“I have given you years of my life and you’ve just… Fuck, I don’t even know if you take me for granted or if you don’t even notice if I’m around or not. I honestly don’t know.”
She turned away, exhausted and aching. 
She couldn’t see the way he rubbed at the curse on his arm, didn’t notice the rage glowing in his eyes. She didn’t feel the danger because she never felt it around him. She could scream all she wanted, but she knew Dean wouldn’t hurt her. 
“If you hate me so goddamn much, why are you even here? Huh? What, did Sammy call you? Tell you I wasn’t doin’ so well?” 
Each word snapped at her like kitchen shears and Y/N spun back around. 
“Fuck you, Dean.” 
As tears fell, she raised her right hand, ready to slap him hard; show him she wasn’t fooling around. 
The Mark swelled on his arm and shot demonic power into his veins. 
Dean grabbed her wrist before she made contact with his cheek and took two steps forward, forcing her backwards into the wall. He slammed her hand onto the plaster and followed suit with her left hand. She gasped, scared but daring him, and he sneered down at her. 
“Don’t. Fucking. Ever. Hit me.”  
The Mark glowed beside her head and she looked from it to him, stuck and devastated. 
“Do you hear me!” 
Strength pulsed through him and Dean lifted her away from the wall only to crush her back into it. 
Her eyes blurred, her head ached; her ears rang. 
“Dean-” 
“You think you know anything about me? You don’t know what I’ve been through! You haven’t been around!” 
His grip tightened on her wrists and she felt the bone in the right twist. 
“Dean! You’re hurting me!”
It seemed he couldn’t stop, wouldn’t let the anger dim. His breath came out in heavy pants through tight lips and clenched teeth; his eyes were like lasers targeting her arteries and setting him up for the kill. 
“Dean!” 
Another tear trekked down her cheek and it caught his attention. 
Dean blinked quickly, clearing his head, and then backed away. He dropped her hands and covered his face, turned his back on her. 
Y/N couldn’t move. 
Silence filled the room and their heads. Guilt ravaged their bodies. 
Her knees gave out and she slid down the wall, slumped to the floor. 
When she could finally speak, her voice was small and pathetic and she hated herself even more. 
“I… I’m sorry, Dean.” 
Calmer now, Dean turned to find her in a heap on the floor and sank down as well. “Don’t be sorry, Y/N/N. I… fuck. Did I hurt you?” 
She shook her head and sat up straight, kicked her knees up to her chest. 
He crawled to her, tried to lay a hand on her knee, but she flinched away. 
“Shit,” he hissed. “I’m so sorry.” 
Y/N let out a hard breath and let her shoulders fall. She trusted him. She didn’t trust that thing on his arm. 
She nodded toward it. “Is it really bad?” 
He rolled up his sleeve and showed off his brand. Curious and horrified, she unfurled herself and leaned in, running a careful finger across the Mark. The flesh was hot, the skin raised and rough. She covered it with her hand and looked up into his face. 
“I can’t take it much more,” he whispered. “It’s gonna take over and I don’t wanna go back there.” 
Her heart hurt. “You don’t have to let it take you. You’re strong. You’re so fucking strong, Dean. So brave. So good.” 
He smiled softly and bent over; kissed her hand. 
“I’m so sorry I hurt you.” 
She sniffed back the tears and reached for him. 
“I coulda just kept my mouth shut,” she confessed. 
Dean lay his head on her shoulder and tugged her close. “No. You shouldn’t have to. I’ll be better, I promise.” 
“You don’t have to be better, Dean.” She turned inwards and pressed her lips to his ear. “You just have to be you.” 
His arms closed a little tighter, he breathed a little slower. 
“I really don’t deserve you, you know that?” 
She sighed and rubbed at the nape of his neck. 
“Shut up, Dean.” 
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scoobydoodean · 8 months
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Free will is written into the fabric of Supernatural. There is no Supernatural without it. Without it, there is no story to tell. Supernatural is fundamentally about making choices that defy causality's flow—something impossible to do in the absence of free will. Supernatural has always been about defying the role set for you:
Repeating your father's revenge-driven quest and allowing it to consume you because you also lost the woman you loved or stepping away from the generational loop set for you.
Obeying your father's dying wishes or rejecting them for love.
Letting circumstances turn you into a monster or retaining your humanity, defying the course set for you by those circumstances.
Whether you can ever sink so low that you can't come back from it no matter how much you want to—whether the hole you have dug can ever become so deep you can't climb out or whether you can always make the choice to change.
We understand the machinations of heaven and hell and god and your father in Supernatural not as the violation of free will but as the shaping of ones circumstances intended to bend their choices to the desired outcome of an authority figure. This is causality:
"Whatever you do, you will always end up... here. No matter what choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up... here"
We are not dealing with lifeless puppets on strings—not even ones who think they have free will but actually don't—no matter the presence of those fears. Autonomy remains. It is the whole reason the story exists in the first place. It's why heaven and hell find themselves subject to the existence of choice and must resort to coercing and bargaining and threatening and lobotomizing. It's why Chuck's anger simmers and then explodes—because his toys repeatedly resist his attempts to bend them to his will. He believes he can create mazes from which there is no escape, but he can't, and his creations chewing through the enclosures over and over confounds him. The presence of the enclosures he builds, to begin with, are proof that he cannot make them do anything. He and all who came before him must get our characters to comply—through manipulation, through the example set by their fathers, through the expectations of ones family, through loss and grief and pain, through resentment and rage, through a fundamental loss of hope and faith—in oneself, in ones family, in ones ability to escape or choose.
Supernatural is also all about love. Love is written into the fabric of the series and the show does not exist without it. Love cannot be forced or mandated or dictated. Love simply is. Love turned Sam from the path of revenge in season 1. Dean defied his father's expectations for love. Sam and Dean and Cas each climbed back from the threat of losing their goodness through love. Love allows one to overcome possession, love gives the strength to defy orders, love gives one the ability to break through re-programming. Love helps one retain hope and belief and stay strong. Free will and love go hand in hand.
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