#his parents didn't force him to put up those newspaper cuttings

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

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Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings

[im-just-trying-to-get-bi]

(Black screen with text; The sound of buzzing bees can be heard) Narrator: 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. (Barry is picking out a shirt) Barry: Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Janet: Barry! Breakfast is ready! Barry: Coming! Hang on a second. (Barry uses his antenna like a phone) Barry: Hello (Through phone) Adam: Barry? Barry: Adam? Adam: Can you believe this is happening? Barry: I can't. I'll pick you up. (Barry flies down the stairs) Martin: Looking sharp. Janet: Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Barry: Sorry. I'm excited. Martin: Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Janet: Very proud. (Rubs Barry's hair) Barry: Ma! I got a thing going here. Janet: You got lint on your fuzz. Barry: Ow! That's me! Janet: Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. Bye! (Barry flies out the door) Janet: Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! (Barry drives through the hive,and is waved at by Adam who is reading a newspaper) Barry: Hey, Adam. Adam: Hey, Barry. (Adam gets in Barry's car) Adam: Is that fuzz gel? Barry: A little. Special day, graduation. Adam: Never thought I'd make it. (Barry pulls away from the house and continues driving) Barry: Three days grade school, three days high school... Adam: Those were awkward. Barry: Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. Adam: You did come back different. (Barry and Adam pass by Artie, who is jogging) Artie: Hi, Barry! Barry: Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. Adam: Hear about Frankie? Barry: Yeah. Adam: You going to the funeral? Barry: No, I'm not going to his funeral. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. Adam: I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. (The car does a barrel roll on the loop-shaped bridge and lands on the highway) Adam: I love this incorporating an amusement park into our regular day. Barry: I guess that's why they say we don't need vacations. (Barry parallel parks the car and together they fly over the graduating students) {♬ Playing "Pomp and Circumstance" ♬} Barry: Boy, quite a bit of pomp...under the circumstances. (Barry and Adam sit down and put on their hats) Barry: Well, Adam, today we are men. Adam: We are! Barry: Bee-men. Adam: Amen! Barry and Adam: Hallelujah! (Barry and Adam both have a happy spasm) {♬ "Pomp and Circumstance" Ends ♬} Announcer: Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Dean: Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of......9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Adam: Will we pick our job today? (Adam and Barry get into a tour bus) Barry: I heard it's just orientation. (Tour buses rise out of the ground and the students are automatically loaded into the buses) Tour Guide: Heads up! Here we go. Announcer: Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. Barry: Wonder what it'll be like? Adam: A little scary. Tour Guide: Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. Barry: This is it! Barry and Adam: Wow. Barry: Wow. (The bus drives down a road an on either side are the Bee's massive complicated Honey-making machines) Tour Guide: 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... Everyone: Honey! (The guide has been collecting honey into a bottle and she throws it into the crowd on the bus and it is caught by a girl in the back) Adam: That girl was hot. Barry: She's my cousin! Adam: She is? Barry:

Yes, we're all cousins. Adam: Right. You're right. Tour Guide: At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. (The bus passes by a Bee wearing a helmet who is being smashed into the ground with fly-swatters, newspapers and boots. He lifts a thumbs up but you can hear him groan) Adam: What do you think he makes? Barry: Not enough. Tour Guide: Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. (They pass by a turning wheel with Bees standing on pegs, who are each wearing a finger-shaped hat) Barry: Wow, What does that do? Tour Guide: Catches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Adam: (Intrigued) Can anyone work on the Krelman? Tour Guide: 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. (Everyone claps except for Barry) Barry: The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. Adam: What's the difference? Tour Guide: You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. Barry: (Upset) So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. (Everyone on the bus laughs except Barry. Barry and Adam are walking back home together) Adam: Wow! That blew my mind! Barry: "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. Adam: I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. Barry: But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Adam: Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. Barry: You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Adam: Like what? Give me one example. (Barry and Adam stop walking and it is revealed to the audience that hundreds of cars are speeding by and narrowly missing them in perfect unison) Barry: I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Announcer: Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Barry: Wait a second. Check it out. (The Pollen jocks fly in, circle around and landing in line) Barry: Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! Adam: Wow. I've never seen them this close. Barry: They know what it's like outside the hive. Adam: Yeah, but some don't come back. Girl Bees: Hey, Jocks! Hi, Jocks! (The Pollen Jocks hook up their backpacks to machines that pump the nectar to trucks, which drive away) Lou Lo Duva: You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! (Punching the Pollen Jocks in joy) Lou Lo Duva: I love it! Adam: I wonder where they were. Barry: 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. Adam: Right. (Barry and Adam are covered in some pollen that floated off of the Pollen Jocks) Barry: Look at that. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. Adam: It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Barry: Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. (Barry waves at 2 girls standing a little away from them) Adam: Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Barry: Distant. Distant. Pollen Jock #1: Look at these two. Pollen Jock #2: Couple of Hive Harrys. Pollen Jock #1: Let's have fun with them. Girl Bee #1: It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Barry: Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! (Slaps Adam with his hand to represent his scenario) Girl Bee #2: Oh, my! Barry: I never thought I'd knock him out. Girl Bee #1: (Looking at Adam) What were you doing during this? Adam: Obviously I was trying to alert the authorities. Barry: I can autograph that. (The pollen jocks walk up to Barry and Adam, they pretend that Barry and Adam really are pollen jocks.) Pollen Jock #1: A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Barry: Yeah. Gusty. Pollen Jock #1: We're hitting a sunflower patch six

miles from here tomorrow. Barry: Six miles, huh? Adam: Barry! Pollen Jock #2: A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. Barry: Maybe I am. Adam: You are not! Pollen Jock #1: We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? Barry: I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. (The scene cuts to Barry looking out on the hive-city from his balcony at night) Martin: Hey, Honex! Barry: Dad, you surprised me. Martin: You decide what you're interested in? Barry: Well, there's a lot of choices. But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Martin: 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. Barry: You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. Martin: 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! Janet: Barry, you are so funny sometimes. Barry: I'm not trying to be funny. Martin: You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! Janet: You're gonna be a stirrer? Barry: No one's listening to me! Martin: Wait till you see the sticks I have. Barry: I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! (Barry's parents don't listen to him and continue to ramble on) Martin: Let's open some honey and celebrate! Barry: Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! Janet: I'm so proud. (The scene cuts to Barry and Adam waiting in line to get a job) Adam: We're starting work today! Barry: Today's the day. Adam: Come on! All the good jobs will be gone. Barry: Yeah, right. Job Lister: Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... Bee in the front of the line: Is it still available? Job Lister: Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Congratulations! Step to the side. Adam: What'd you get? Bee in the front of the line: Picking crud out. Stellar! (He walks away) Adam: Wow! Job Lister: Couple of newbies? Adam: Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Job Lister: Make your choice. (Adam and Barry look up at the job board. There are hundreds of constantly changing panels that contain available or unavailable jobs. It looks very confusing) Adam: You want to go first? Barry: No, you go. Adam: Oh, my. What's available? Job Lister: Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. Adam: Any chance of getting the Krelman? Job Lister: Sure, you're on. (Puts the Krelman finger-hat on Adam's head) (Suddenly the sign for Krelman closes out) Job Lister: I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. (Takes Adam's hat off) Job Lister: Wax monkey's always open. Adam: The Krelman opened up again. What happened? Job Lister: 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! Adam: Oh, this is so hard! (Barry remembers what the Pollen Jock offered him and he flies off) Adam: Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? (Adam turns around and sees Barry flying away) Adam: Barry! Pollen Jock #1: All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... Adam: (Through phone) What happened to you? Where are you? Barry: I'm going out. Adam: Out? Out where? Barry: Out there. Adam: Oh, no! Barry: I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. Adam: You're gonna die! You're crazy! (Barry hangs up) Adam: Hello? Pollen Jock #2: Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Barry: Hey, guys. Pollen Jock #1: Look at that. Pollen Jock #2: Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Lou Lo Duva: Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. Pollen Jock #1: It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. (Puts hand on Barry's shoulder)

Lou Lo Duva: (To Barry) Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Bee with Clipboard: (To Barry) Sign here, here. Just initial that. Thank you. Lou Lo Duva: 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! Barry: That's awful. Lou Lo Duva: (Still talking through megaphone) And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Pollen Jocks: (The Pollen Jocks run into formation) Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Lou Lo Duva: Black and yellow! Pollen Jocks: Hello! Pollen Jock #1: (To Barry)You ready for this, hot shot? Barry: Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Pollen Jocks: Wind, check. Antennae, check. Nectar pack, check. Wings, check. Stinger, check. Barry: Scared out of my shorts, check. Lou Lo Duva: OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! (The pollen jocks fly out of the hive) Barry: Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! (Barry flies through the kite) Barry: Wow! Flowers! (A pollen jock puts on some high tech goggles that shows flowers similar to heat sink goggles.) Pollen Jock: This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! Pollen Jock #1: 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. (The pollen jock fires a high-tech gun at the flower, shooting tubes that suck up the nectar from the flower and collects it into a pouch on the gun) Barry: That is one nectar collector! Pollen Jock #1: Ever see pollination up close? Barry: No, sir. (Barry and the Pollen jock fly over the field, the pollen jock sprinkles pollen as he goes) Pollen Jock #1: 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. Barry: That's amazing. Why do we do that? Pollen Jock #1: That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Barry: Cool. Pollen Jock #1: I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. could be daisies. Don't we need those? Pollen Jock #2: Copy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Pollen Jock #1: Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Pollen Jock #2: Affirmative. (The Pollen jocks land near the "flowers" which, to the audience are obviously just tennis balls) Ken: (In the distance) That was on the line! Pollen Jock #1: This is the coolest. What is it? Pollen Jock #2: I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Pollen Jock #1: Yeah, fuzzy. (Sticks his hand on the ball but it gets stuck) Pollen Jock #3: Chemical-y. (The pollen jock finally gets his hand free from the tennis ball) Pollen Jock #1: Careful, guys. It's a little grabby. (The pollen jocks turn around and see Barry lying his entire body on top of one of the tennis balls) Pollen Jock #2: My sweet lord of bees! Pollen Jock #3: Candy-brain, get off there! Pollen Jock #1: (Pointing upwards) Problem! (A human hand reaches down and grabs the tennis ball that Barry is stuck to) Barry: Guys! Pollen Jock #2: This could be bad. Pollen Jock #3: Affirmative. (Vanessa Bloome starts bouncing the tennis ball, not knowing Barry is stick to it) Barry: Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. (Barry is being hit back and forth by two humans playing tennis. He is still stuck to the ball) Pollen Jock #1: You are way out of position, rookie! Ken: Coming in at you like a MISSILE! (Barry flies past the pollen jocks, still stuck to the ball) Barry: (In slow motion) Help me! Pollen Jock #2: I don't think these are flowers. Pollen Jock #3: Should we tell him? Pollen Jock #1: I think he knows. Barry: What is this?! Ken: Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to EAT IT! (A pollen

jock coughs which confused Ken and he hits the ball the wrong way with Barry stuck to it and it goes flying into the city) Barry: Yowser! (Barry bounces around town and gets stuck in the engine of a car. He flies into the air conditioner and sees a bug that was frozen in there) Barry: Ew, gross. (The man driving the car turns on the air conditioner which blows Barry into the car) Girl in the car: There's a bee in the car! Do something! Dad driving the car: I'm driving! Baby Girl: (Waving at Barry) Hi, bee. (Barry smiles and waves at the baby girl) Guy in the back of the car: He's back here! He's going to sting me! Girl in the car: Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! (Barry freezes as well, hovering in the middle of the car) Grandma in the car: He blinked! (The grandma whips out some bee-spray and sprays everywhere in the car, climbing into the front seat, still trying to spray Barry) Girl in the car: Spray him, Granny! Dad driving the car: What are you doing?! (Barry escapes the car through the air conditioner and is flying high above the ground, safe.) Barry: Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. (Barry sees that storm clouds are gathering and he can see rain clouds moving into this direction) Barry: I gotta get home. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain. Pollen Jock #1: You are way out of position, rookie! Ken: Coming in at you like a MISSILE! (Barry flies past the pollen jocks, still stuck to the ball) Barry: (In slow motion) Help me! Pollen Jock #2: I don't think these are flowers. Pollen Jock #3: Should we tell him? Pollen Jock #1: I think he knows. Barry: What is this?! Ken: Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to EAT IT! (A pollen jock coughs which confused Ken and he hits the ball the wrong way with Barry stuck to it and it goes flying into the city) Barry: Yowser! (Barry bounces around town and gets stuck in the engine of a car. He flies into the air conditioner and sees a bug that was frozen in there) Barry: Ew, gross. (The man driving the car turns on the air conditioner which blows Barry into the car) Girl in the car: There's a bee in the car! Do something! Dad driving the car: I'm driving! Baby Girl: (Waving at Barry) Hi, bee. (Barry smiles and waves at the baby girl) Guy in the back of the car: He's back here! He's going to sting me! Girl in the car: Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! (Barry freezes as well, hovering in the middle of the car) Grandma in the car: He blinked! (The grandma whips out some bee-spray and sprays everywhere in the car, climbing into the front seat, still trying to spray Barry) Girl in the car: Spray him, Granny! Dad driving the car: What are you doing?! (Barry escapes the car through the air conditioner and is flying high above the ground, safe.) Barry: Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. (Barry sees that storm clouds are gathering and he can see rain clouds moving into this direction) Barry: I gotta get home. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain.(a raindrop hits him, but before he can recover, another hits him) Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! (Barry sees a window ledge and barely makes it there, then crawls through the open window.) Vanessa: Ken, could you close the window please? Ken: Huh? Oh.. Hey, Check out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Barry: Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. (tries to fly out the window but bounces off of it) Oof! Ow! What was that? (tries again) Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This, this, this, this... Drapes. (taps the glass) That is diabolical. Ken: (showing off his resume:) It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. Andy: What's your number one? Star Wars? Ken: Nah, I don't go for that... (mimics lasers firing) ...kind of stuff. Barry: No wonder we’re not supposed to talk to them. They're out of their minds. Ken: When I walk out of a job interview, they're flabbergasted. They can't believe the things I say. Barry: There's the sun. Maybe

that's a way out. (flies towards the light near the ceiling) I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. (bounces off it and starts falling, landing in a bowl of chip dip) Ken: I gotta tell ya, I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. (Andy scoops up some of the dip with a tortilla chip, including Barry, and brings it towards his mouth) Ken: Wait! Stop! Bee! Anna: Kill it! Kill it! Ken: (grabs something to kill it) Stand back. These are winter boots. Vanessa: Wait! Don't kill him! Ken: You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Vanessa: Well, why does his life have any less value than yours? (Vanessa places a lass over Barry) Ken: Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? Vanessa: I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. (Vanessa rips Ken's resume in half and slides it under the glass) Ken: My brochure. Vanessa: (carries the glass with Barry inside over to the window and release him) There you go, little guy. Ken: I'm not scared of him. But yeah, it's an allergic thing. Andy: Hey, why don't you put that on your resume-brochure? Ken: It's not funny. My whole face could puff up. Andy: Hmm, make it one of your "special skills". Ken: You know, knocking someone out is also a special skill. (later, as the rain stops and the sun comes back out) Anna: Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. Ken: Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? Vanessa: Ah, yeah, sure, Ken. You know, whatever. Ken: You could put carob chips on there. Vanessa: Bye. Ken: Supposed to be less calories or somethin'. Vanessa: Bye. (the last of her guests have left. She shuts the door and begins cleanup.) Barry: (sighs) I gotta say something. She saved my life. I've got to say something. All right, here it goes. (Barry flies back into her house through the almost-closed window and stops in front of a can of Bumble Bee Chunk Light Tuna as Vanessa walks by, stopping right in line with the mascot. He starts to walk away and looks back. Says, "Huh" and turns back around to look at the mascot, then says "Nah" as he dismisses the picture and continues walking.) (Barry resumes flying and lands on a postcard from Coney Island taped to the refrigerator, again in a position where Vanessa doesn't notice him.) Barry: 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. (begins debating with himself) 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? "Ya like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Barry: (to Vanessa:) Um, hi! (Vanessa gasps and drops the dishes) Barry: I'm sorry. Vanessa: Hah, you're talking. Barry: Yes, I know, I know. I'm so– Vanessa: You're talking. Barry: I know. I'm– I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Vanessa: No, it's okay. It's fine. It's just... I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Barry: Well, you know, I'm sure this is very disconcerting.... Vanessa: Yeah! I mean, this is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! Barry: Yeah. Vanessa: Yeah. Barry: Yeah, I am a bee. And, uh, you know I'm not supposed to be doing this, but... (Vanessa makes a small "Oh" and "uh-huh" noises while Barry's talking) Barry: ...they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I mean, I had to thank you. It's, it's just the way I was raised. (Vanessa grabs a fork and stabs herself in the hand, then cries out) Barry: Oh! That was a little weird. Vanessa: I'm talking to a bee. Barry: Yeah. Vanessa: I'm talking to a bee. Barry: Anyway... Vanessa: And the bee is talking to me! Barry: Um, I just want to say I'm grateful, and I'm going to leave now. Vanessa: Wait, wait, wait, wait! How did you learn to do that? Barry: What? Vanessa: That- that- that- that... The talking thing. Barry: Oh, same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. Vanessa: (laughs unconvincingly) That's very funny. Barry: Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal

with. Anyway... Vanessa: Can I uh... get you something? Barry: Like what? Vanessa: I don't know. I mean.. I don't know. Coffee? Barry: Well, uh, I don't want to put you out, unless you're making it anyway. Vanessa: Oh, it's no trouble. Oh, it takes two minutes. Barry: Really? Vanessa: It's just coffee. Barry: I hate to impose. Vanessa: Don't be ridiculous! Barry: Actually, I would love a cup. Vanessa: Hey, you want a little rum cake? Barry: I really shouldn't. Vanessa: Have a little rum cake. Barry: No, no, no, I can't. Vanessa: Oh, come on! Barry: You know, I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms here. Vanessa: Where? Barry: Well... these stripes don't help. Vanessa: You look great! Barry: I don't know if you know anything about fashion. (Vanessa walks away and begins pouring coffee onto the floor, a coffee cup in her other hand) Barry: Are you all right? Vanessa: No. (fade to Vanessa and Barry on her roof terrace, talking and having coffee) Barry: He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. So he finally gets there. Vanessa: Uh huh. Barry: He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on... Vanessa: Yeah? Barry: ...and he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan." Vanessa: Uh huh? Barry: Why would I marry a watermelon? (Barry laughs) (Vanessa's more confused than amused. Barry gestures, indicating his joke is done.) Vanessa: Oh, Is that a... a bee joke? Barry: Yeah, that's the kind of stuff that we do. Vanessa: Yeah, different. So, anyway, what are you gonna do, Barry? Barry: About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I, I can't do it the way they want. Vanessa: I know how you feel. Barry: You do? Vanessa: Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. Barry: Really? Vanessa: My only interest is flowers. Barry: Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Vanessa: Oh, huh. Barry: Anyway, you see if you look... There. There's my hive right there. You can see it. Vanessa: Oh, you're in Sheep Meadow! Barry: Yes! You know the turtle pond? Vanessa: Yes? Barry: I'm right off of that. Vanessa: Oh, no way! I know that area. Do you know I lost a toe ring there once. (behind them, a janitor comes onto the roof and begins working on replacing a light bulb) Barry: Really? Vanessa: Yes. Barry: Why do girls put rings on their toes? Vanessa: Well, why not? Barry: I don't know. It's like putting a hat on your knee. Vanessa: Maybe I'll try that. Janitor: You all right, ma'am? Vanessa: (realizing how it must look, talking to herself:) Oh, yeah, fine. Just having two cups of coffee. (she laughs) (Vanessa and Barry share a little quiet time) Barry: Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Vanessa: Oh, yeah, it's no trouble. Barry: Sorry I couldn't finis it. If I did, I'd be up for the rest of my life. Are you... Umm. Can I take a piece of this with me? Vanessa: Sure! Here, have a crumb. (She passes one to Barry on her fingertip) Barry: Oh, thanks. Vanessa: Yeah. Barry: All right, well, then... I guess I'll see you around, or not, or... Vanessa: Okay, Barry. Barry: And thank you so much again... for before. Vanessa: Oh, that? That was nothing. Barry: Well, not nothing, but... anyway... (Barry extends his hand. Vanessa touches it with her finger and they gingerly shake. The janitor looks over and continues tightening the bulb in the socket. It shorts, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards.) (The next day at the Honex building, hurricane survival testing is in progress. A bee wearing a parachute is in a wind tunnel.) Testing bee 1: This can't possibly work. Testing bee 2: Well, he's all set to go. We may as well try it. (via intercom:) Okay, Dave. pull the chute. (Dave pulls the cord and is immediately blown backwards. He slides down the wall and shakily gives a thumbs up signal. Barry and Adam walk by the outside of the testing chamber.) Adam: Sounds amazing. Barry: Oh, it was amazing. It- it was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Adam: Humans! Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant scary

humans! What were they like? Barry: Huge and crazy. They talk crazy, they eat crazy giant things. They drive around real crazy. Adam: And do they try and kill you like on TV? Barry: Some of them. But some of them don't. Adam: How'd you get back? Barry: Poodle. Adam: Look, you did it. And I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see out there, You had your "experience", and now you're back, you can pick out your job and everything can be normal. Barry: Well... Adam: Well? Well? Barry: Well, I met someone. Adam: You met someone? Was she Bee-ish? Barry: Mmm. Adam: Not a wasp? Your parents will kill you. Barry: No, no, no, not a wasp. Adam: Spider? Barry: You know, I'm not attracted to the spiders. I know to everyone else it's like the hottest thing with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. (Barry grimaces and makes a noise.) Adam: So, uh, who is she? Barry: She's... uh... a human. Adam: Oh no, no, no, no. That didn't happen. You didn't do that. That is a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. Barry: Her name's Vanessa. Adam: Oh, oh boy! Barry: She's so-o nice. And she's a florist! Adam: Oh, no. No, no, no! You're dating a human florist? Barry: W-w-well, we're not dating. Adam: You're flying outside the hive. You're talking to human beings that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s. That's one-eighth of a stick of dynamite. Barry: She saved my life. And she understands me. Adam: This is over. Barry: (pulls out the rum cake crumb) Eat this. (pushes it into Adam's face.) Adam: This is not over. What was that? Barry: They call it a crumb. Adam: That was so stingin' stripey! Barry: And that's not even what they eat. That just falls off what they eat. Do you know what a Cinnabon is? Adam: No. Barry: It's bread... Adam: Come in here! (opens the door to the office where he works and guides Barry inside) Barry: ...and cinnamon, Adam: Be quiet! Barry: ...and frosting. They heat it up– Adam: Sit down! Barry: Really hot! Adam: Listen to me! We are not them. We're us. There's us and there's them. Barry: Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning... Adam: There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. (another bee joins in:) Thinking bee. (and another joins in:) Thinking bee. (all bees in the office begin chanting:) Thinking bee. Thinking bee. Thinking bee. (Outside his house, Barry sits on a raft in his family's hexagon-shaped honey pool, legs dangling into the honey. Mom and dad approach, wearing cabana-type outfits, sun shining behind them.) Mom: There he is. He's in the pool. Dad: You know what your problem is, Barry? Barry: I've got to start thinking bee? Dad: Barry, how much longer is this going to go on? It's been three days. I don't understand why you're not working. Barry: Well, I've got a lot of big life decisions I'm thinking about Dad: What life? You have no life! You have no job! You're barly a bee! Barry: Augh. Mom: Would it kill you to just make a little honey? (Barry rolls off the raft and sinks into the pool.) Mom: Barry, come out from under there. Your rather's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Dad: Barry, I'm talking to you. (Barry keeps swimming downward through the honey, which clears and leads him to a park where Vanessa is waiting for him, reclining on a picnic blanket. "Sugar Sugar" by The Archies is playing in the background. She swats a mosquito that lands on her leg, then looks at Barry for his reaction. Both are surprised, but then laugh about it.) Vanessa: You coming? (said in a sultry way) Barry: Got everything? Vanessa: All set. (She gets into a one-man ultralight plane with a black-and-yellow paint job and puts on her helmet. She and the plane are now Barry's size.) Barry: You go ahead. I'll catch up. Vanessa: Don't be too long. (The plane takes off. Barry soon catches up and they fly together.) Vanessa: Watch this! (The plane does a loop, trailing red smoke that forms a heart, then crashes into the side of a rock pile, bursting into flames.) Barry: (yelling in anguish:) Vanessa! (his cry changes to bubbles escaping

his mouth) (Barry breaks the surface of the pool, gasping for air.) Dad: We're still here, Barry. Mom: I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond when you yell at him. Dad: Then why are you yelling at me? Mom: Because you don't listen. Dad: Ah, I'm not listing to this. Barry: (dries himself and puts on his sweater) Sorry Mom, I've got to go. Mom: Where are you going? Barry: Nowhere. I'm meeting a friend. Mom: (calling after him:) A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Barry: Bye! Mom: I just hope she's Bee-ish. (Vanessa exits her florist shop, flipping the sign over and locking the door.) Barry: (he see the Tournament of Roses Parade poster) So they have a huge parade of just flowers every year in Pasadena? Vanessa: Oh, to be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream. Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. Barry: Wow, a tournament. Do the roses actually complete in athletic events? Vanessa: No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? Barry: It's exhausting. Vanessa: Hmmm. Barry: Why don't you run everywhere? Isn't that faster? Vanessa: Yeah, okay. I see, I see. All right, your turn. Barry: Ah! Tivo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane. Vanessa: What, you don't have anything like that? Barry: We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Vanessa: Oh my. (They turn a corner onto a busier street. People start swatting at Barry.) Man: Dumb bees! Vanessa: You must just want to sting all those jerks. Barry: We really try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. Vanessa: So you really have to watch your temper? (they enter a supermarket) Barry: Oh yeah, very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. You work though it like any emotion– anger, jealousy, (under his breath) lust. (Barry lands on cardboard boxes in the aisle. A stock boy hits him with a rolled-up advertisement.) Vanessa: (to Barry:) Oh my goodness. Are you okay? Barry: Yeah. Whew! Vanessa: (to Hector, the stockboy:) What is wrong with you?! Hector: It's a bug. Vanessa: Well, he's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep. (She slaps him with the advertisement and he leaves, muttering.) Barry: (shakes off the hit) What was that, a Pick and Save circular? Vanessa: Yeah, it was. How did you know? Barry: It felt like about ten pages. Seventy-five's pretty much our limit. Vanessa: Boy, you've really got that down to a science. Barry: Oh, we have to. I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. Vanessa: I'll bet. Barry: (he stops when he sees the rows of honey jars) What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Cute Bee? Golden Blossom? Ray Liotta Private Select. Vanessa: Is he that actor? Barry: I never heard of him. Why is this here? Vanessa: For people. We eat it. Barry: Why? (he gestures around the market) You don't have enough food of your own? Vanessa: Well yes, we– Barry: How do you even get it? Vanessa: Well, bees make it... Barry: I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating and cooling, and stirring... you need a whole Krelman thing. Vanessa: It's organic. Barry: It's our-ganic! Vanessa: It's just honey, Barry. Barry: Just... what?! Bees don't know about this. This is stealing. A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, our schools, our hospitals. This is all we have. And it's on sale? I'm going to get to the bottom of this. I'm going to get to the bottom of all of this! (Barry rips off the label from a jar of Ray Liotta Private Select Honey) (Later, Barry's infiltrating the supermarket loading dock by covering up his yellow stripes with a Magic Marker and putting on war paint. Hector's opening more boxes of honey jars.) Man: Hey, Hector. You almost done? Hector: Almost. (Barry steps in some honey. Hector stops and turns.) Hector: He is here. I sense it. (he grabs his box cutter as Barry hides) (Barry hides behind a box again) Hector: (talking loud to the open room as he opens a jar of honey from a box:) Well, I guess I'll go home now, and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around.

(pretends to walk away) Barry: (he steps out into the light) You're busted, box boy! Hector: Ah ha! I knew I heard something. So, you can talk. (Barry flies at him, stinger first, backing him against the wall. Hector drops the knife.) Barry: Oh, I can talk. And now you're going to start talking. Where are you getting all the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier?! Hector: I don't know what you're talking about. I though we were all friends. The last thing we want to do is upset any of you... bees! (Hector grabs a push pin. Barry begins fencing with his stinger..) Hector: Ha! You're too late. It's ours now! Barry: You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword. Hector: You, sir, are about to be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! (The fight continues. They cross swords and get nose-to-nose.) Barry: Where is the honey coming from? (Barry knocks the push pin away and put his stinger up to Hector's nose.) Tell me where! Hector: (points to a truck) Honey Farms. It comes from Honey Farms. (Barry flies after the departing truck, dodging a bus, taxis and a messenger on a bicycle. One driver yells at messenger, "Crazy person!") (Barry continues his pursuit, using the elastic strap on a bicycle messenger's helmet to launch himself towards the truck. He lands on the windshield, pressed against it by the wind. He sees himself surrounded by dead bugs, then works his way around them.) Barry: Oh my. What horrible thing has happened here? Look at these faces. They never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere. (a mosquito opens his eyes) Pssst! Just keep still. Barry: What? You're not dead? Mooseblood: Do I look dead? Hey man, they will wipe anything that moves. Now, where you headed? Barry: To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. Mooseblood: I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood. Crazy stuff. Blows your head off. Ladybug: I'm going to Tacoma. Barry: (to a fly:) What about you? Mooseblood: He really is dead. Barry: All right. (the driver's hand moves to the windshield wiper lever) Mooseblood: Uh oh. Barry: What is that? Mooseblood: Oh no! It's a wiper, triple blade! Barry: Triple blade? Mooseblood: Jump on. It's your only chance, bee. (They hang onto the wiper as it moves back and forth. Mooseblood yells at the driver through the glass) Mooseblood: Why does everything have to be so dog-gone clean?! How much do you people need to see? Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! (inside the cab, the radio's playing) Announcer: For NPR News in Washington, I'm Carl Kasell. Mooseblood: But don't kill no more bugs! (he is flung off the wiper as the washer fluid sprays onto the windshield) Beeeeeeeee! Barry: Moose blood guy! (Barry gets flung off, grabs ahold of the radio antenna. A cricket flying by grabs ahold of the antenna. Both scream are screaming.) Driver: You hear something? Passenger: Like what? Driver: Like tiny screaming. Passenger: Turn off the radio. (The driver turns off the radio and the antenna retracts. As it lowers, the cricket and Barry work their way to its top. Barry wins and the cricket has to let go, but then so does Barry, and he's sucked into the air horn on the top of the truck.) Mooseblood: Hey, what's up, bee boy? Barry: Hey, Blood! (inside the truck horn, later during the drive) Barry: ...and it was just an endless row of honey jars as far as the eye could see. Mooseblood: Wow. Barry: So I'm just assuming wherever this honey truck goes, that's where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours! Mooseblood: Bees hang tight. Barry: Well, we're all jammed in there. It's a close community. Mooseblood: Not us, man. We're on our own. Every- every mosquito is on his own. Barry: But what if you get in trouble? Mooseblood: Trouble? You're a mosquito. You're in trouble! Nobody likes us. They're just all smackin'. People see a mosquito, smack, smack! Barry: At least you're out in the world. You must meet a lot of girls. Mooseblood: Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly.... Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. (A bloodmobile passes them.) Mooseblood: Whoa, you have got to be kidding me.

Mooseblood's about to leave the building. So long bee. (he leaves and jumps onto the other vehicle, saying to the bugs on its windshield:) Hey guys. I knew I'd catch you all down here. Did you bring your crazy straws? (At Honey Farms, the truck stops. Barry flies out of the horn and lands on the nose of the truck. Two beekeepers walk around the back side of the gift shop. Barry follows, landing in a tree.) Freddy: ...then we throw it in some jars, slap a label on it. It's pretty much pure profit. Barry: What is this place? Elmo: A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. Freddy: They are pinheads. (both laugh and Elmo says, "Pinhead". Freddy opens a smoker box after they arrive) Freddy: Hey, check out the new smoker. Elmo: Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. Freddy: The Thomas 3000. Barry: Smoker? Freddy: Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. (both laugh again) Freddy: Couple of breaths of this, knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. (Barry flies onto Freddy's hat and onto the brim.) Elmo: "They make the honey, and we make the money." (Freddy and Elmo walk onward. Freddy opens an apiary box and sprays it with smoke. Inside, the bees start moaning and gasping.) Barry: Oh my. (Barry flies into the open box as Freddy leaves and makes his way into an apartment. Two bees are just waking up.) Barry: What's going on? Are you okay? Howard: Yeah, it doesn't last too long. Barry: How did you two get here? Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Howard: (points to a picture) Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. Barry: (looks at the picture) This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes. That's a drag-queen! (The walls separating the apartments are removed, revealing hundreds of them.) Barry: What is this? (Flies through the apartments and out into the open air. He hovers high above a tree, where he sees even more apiary boxes on the farm. He begins taking pictures) Oh no. There's hundreds of them. Bee honey, our honey, is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale. (Back at home, Barry's talking with his parents, Adam and Uncle Carl.) Barry: This is worse than anything the bears have done to us. And I intend to do something about it. Mom: Oh Barry, stop. Dad: Who told you that humans are taking our honey? That's just a rumor. Barry: Do these look like rumors? (Barry throws his pictures on the table) Uncle Carl: That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. Barry: Ugh. Mom: Barry, how did you get mixed up in all this? Adam: 'Cause he's been talking to humans! Mom: Whaaat? Dad: Talking to humans?! Adam: He has a human girlfriend... Dad: Oh Barry. Adam: ...and they make out! Mom: Make out? Barry? Barry: We do not. Adam: You wish you could. Barry: Who's side are you on? Adam: The bees! Uncle Carl: I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Man, those crazy legs kept me up all night. Hotcheewah! Mom: Barry, this is what you want to do with your life?: Barry: This is what I want to do for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees. Dad, I remember you coming home some nights so overworked, you- your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop them. Dad: Ehhh... Mom: (to her husband:) I remember that. Barry: What right do they have to our hard-earned honey? We're living on two cups a year. They're puttin' it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever. Dad: Even if it's true, Barry, what could one bee do? Barry: I'm going to sting them where it really hurts. Dad: In the face! Barry: No. Dad: In the eye! That would really hurt. Barry: No. Dad: Up the nose. That's a killer, heh heh. Barry: No. There's only one place you can sting the humans. One place where it really matters. (The scene cuts to the title sequence of the "Hive at Five" program. The title sequence shows news events covered in the past: a Pollen Jock coming in for a crash landing with a stinger that's on fire, a protest about bee beards, and a bear destroying a hive. Next are the newscasters.) voice over: Hive at Five, the hive's only full hour action news source. With Bob Bumble

at the anchor desk, weather with Storm Stinger, sports with Buzz Larvi, and Jeanette Chung. Bob: Good evening, I'm Bob Bumble. Jeanette: And I'm Jeanette Chung. Bob: Our top story, a tri-county bee, Barry Benson is saying he intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it, and profiting from it illegally. (Broadcast shifts again to another studio in the building for "Bee Larry King Live".) Bee Larry King: Don't forget, tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we're gonna have three former Queens, all right here in our studio, discussing their new book, Classy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. (to Barry:) Tonight, we're talking with Barry Benson. Did ya ever think, I'm just a kid from the hive. I can't do this? Barry: Larry, bees have never been afraid to change the world. I mean, what about Bee-Columbus? Bee-Ghandi? Be-geesus? Bee Larry King: Well, where I'm from, you wouldn't think of suing humans. We were thinking more like stick ball, uh, candy stores. Barry: How old are you? Bee Larry King: Well, I want you to know that they entire bee community is supporting you in this case, which is certain to be the trial of the bee century. Barry: Thank you, Larry. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world, too. Bee Larry King: It's a common name. Next week on Bee Larry King... Barry: No, I mean he looks like you. And he has a show with suspenders and different colored dots behind him. Bee Larry King: Next week on Bee Larry King... Barry: Old guy glasses, and there's quotes along the bottom from the guest you're watching even though you just heard them... Bee Larry King: Bear next week! They're scary, they're hairy, and they're here live. (he exits) Barry: Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes.... Very Jewish. (Nighttime at Vanessa's Flower Shop. Law books and legal forms are piled up.) Ken: Look, in- in tennis, you attack at the point of weakness. Vanessa: But it was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Ken: Huh, honey, her backhand's a joke. I'm not going to take advantage of that? Barry: Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. Ken: Is that that same bee? Barry: Yes it is. Vanessa: I'm helping him sue the human race. Ken: Wha? Barry: (enters room, sees Ken) Oh, hello. Ken: Hello, bee. Vanessa: This is Ken. Barry: Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Ken: Why does he talk again, hun? Vanessa: Listen, you better go because we're really busy working. Ken: But it's our yogurt night. Vanessa: (she pushes him out the door) Oh... bye bye. Ken: (from outside the now-closed door) Why is yogurt night so difficult? Vanessa: Oh you poor thing, you two have been at this for hours. Barry: Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. (Adam is asleep inside an empty Cinnabon box, covered in frosting and muttering in his sleep about it.) Vanessa: (referring to the coffee:) How many sugars? Barry: Just one. I try not to use the competition. Ooh! So, why are you helping me, anyway? Vanessa: Bees have good qualities. Barry: Si, Certo. Vanessa: And it feels good to take my mind off the shop. I don't know why, instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Barry: Yeah, those are great... if you're three. Vanessa: And artificial flowers. Barry: Oh, those just get my psychotic! Vanessa: Yeah, me too. Barry: The bent stingers, the pointless pollination. Vanessa: Bees must hate those fake plastic things. Barry: There's nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Vanessa: Well, maybe this could make up for it a little bit. (they exit the flower shop and go to the mailbox) Vanessa: You know, Barry, this lawsuit is a pretty big deal. Barry: I guess. Vanessa: Are you sure that you want to go through with it? Barry: 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. (Outside the courthouse, a reporter begins her segment, talking to the camera.) Reporter: Sarah, it's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan where all eyes and ears of the world are anxiously waiting, because for the first time in

history, we're going to hear for ourselves if a honey bee can actually speak. (Inside, Barry, Vanessa and Adam sit at a table.) Vanessa: What have we gotten into here, Barry? Barry: I don't know, but it's pretty big, isn't it? Adam: I can't believe how many humans don't have to be at work during the day. Barry: Hey, you think these billion dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? (Back outside the courthouse, a policeman announces though a megaphone, "Folks, everybody needs to stay behind the barricade." A very expensive car drives up with a license plate saying "ALIBUY" and the initials LTM on the hood ornament. The lawyer gets out, sees a bug and steps on it. Inside, Barry shudders.) Vanessa: What's the matter? Barry: I don't know. I just got a chill. Layton T. Montgomery: Well, if it isn't the B-Team.. (waves a honey packet he picked up from the saucer holding his drink) Any of you boys work on this? (he chuckles) Bailiff: All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. Judge Bumbleton: All right... Case number 4475, Superior Court of New York. Barry Bee Benson vs. the honey industry, is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five major food companies, collectively. Layton: A privilege. Judge: Ah, Mr. Benson. You are representing all bees of the world? (Inside and outside the courtroom, everyone is waiting to hear what he will say.) Barry: Bzzz bzzz bzzz...Ahh, I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Yes, your honor. We are ready to proceed. Judge: And Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Layton: (clears throat and speaks in a very heavy and exaggerated Southern drawl) 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 were to live in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, j-j-just think of what it would mean. Maybe I would have to negotiate with the silk worm 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! Judge: Mr. Benson? Barry: Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. And as a 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 whatever they want from us 'cause we're the little guys. And what I'm hoping is that after this is all over, you'll see how by taking our honey, you're not only taking away everything we have, but everything we are. (Vanessa smiles and silently claps and the bees in the courtroom are moved by his words. Back at their house, Barry's parents are watching on TV.) Mom: Oh, I wish he would dress like that all the time. So nice... Judge: Call your first witness. Barry: So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms. Pretty big company you have there? Vanderhayden: I suppose so. Barry: And I see you also own Honey-Burton, and Honron! Vanderhayden: Yes. They provide beekeepers for our farms. Barry: Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term, I have to say. I don't imagine you employ any bee free-ers, do you? Vanderhayden: Uh, n-no. Barry: I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you. Vanderhayden: (louder) No. Barry: No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. And not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey? Vanderhayden: W-well, they're very lovable creatures. Uh, Yogi Bear, Fozzy Bear. Oh! Build-a-Bear? Barry: Yeah, you mean like this?! (Vanessa and a man enter, guiding a giant grizzly bear restrained by a collar with chains atttached to both sides. They bring him in front of Vanderhayden. The bear lunges at him and roars.) Barry: Bears kill bees! How would you like his big hairy head crashing through your living room? Biting into your couch, spitting out your throw-pillows...rowr, rowr! Bear:

Rowr!! Barry: Okay, that's enough. Take him away. (Vincent stops roaring. He and the man depart without incident, leaving Vanderhayden trembling with the Judge glaring at him and Layton angrily growling himself.) (Later, Barry questions another witness.) Barry: So, Mr. Sting. Thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me, I have to say. Where have I heard it before? Sting: I was with a band called "The Police". Barry: But you've never been a police officer of any kind, have you? Sting: Uh, no, I haven't. Barry: No, you haven't. And so, here we have yet another example of bee culture being casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Sting: Oh, please. Barry: Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say, Mr. Gordon M. Sumner? The jury gasps Layton: (to his assistants:) That's not his real name? You idiots! (later on, Barry's questioning another witness) Barry: (reading from the base of the statue the witness is holding) Mr. Liotta, first may I offer my belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on E.R. in 2005. Ray Liotta: Thank you. Thank you. (he laughs maniacally) Barry: I also see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome, but with a churning inner turmoil that's always ready to blow. Ray: I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Barry: Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you, Mr. Liotta? Exploiting tiny helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part, and learn your lines, sir? Ray: Watch it, Benson, I could blow right now! Barry: This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Ray: (suddenly upset, he tries to smash Barry with his Emmy statue) Why doesn't someone just step on this little creep and we can all go home? You're all thinking it. Say it! Judge: Order! Order in this courtroom! Order, I say! Mr. Liotta, please sit down! (The reaction from the press is harsh. The headline of the New York Telegram has "Sue Bee", the New York Post reads "Bees to Humans: Buzz Off", and the Daily Variety reports "Studio Dumps Liotta Project. Slams Door on Unlawful Entry 2.") (That evening, in Vanessa's apartment.) Barry: Well, I just think that was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. Vanessa: I'm telling you, I think the jury's on our side. Barry: Are we doing everything right, you know, legally? Vanessa: I'm a florist. Barry: Right, right. (he raises his glass) Well, here's to a great team. Vanessa: To a great team. (both toast and Ken enters the apartment) Ken: Well, hello. Vanessa: Oh... Ken. Barry: Hello. Vanessa: Ah, I didn't think you were coming. Ken: No, I was just late. I tried to call. But, the battery... Vanessa: I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily he was free. Barry: Yeah. Ken: Oh, that was lucky. Vanessa: Well, there's still a little left. I could heat it up. Ken: Yeah, heat it up. Sure, whatever. Barry: So, I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. I find the ball a little grabby. Ken: That's where I usually sit. Right there. Vanessa: (from kitchen) Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that "eating with chopsticks" isn't really a special skill. Ken: (to Barry:) You think I don’t see what you’re doin'? Barry: Hey look, I know how hard it is trying to find the right job. We certainly have that in common. Ken: Do we? Barry: Well, bees have 100% employment, of course. But we do jobs like taking the crud out. Ken: That’s just what I was thinking about doing. (Ken reaches for a knife but pushes it off the table. He bends down to pick it up.) Vanessa: (from kitchen) Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. (Ken hits his head on the table as he straightens back up, then presses the apple cider bottle against his temple to soothe it) Barry: I’m going to go drain the ol' stinger. Ken: Yeah, you do that. (Barry flies a couple of loops in front of Ken as he heads to the bathroom, causing Ken to shake the bottle and get cider in his eyes. Barry grabs a small section of Variety

Magazine as he goes.) Barry: Huh, look at that. (tears off a small corner off Variety Magazine as he goes in.) (as Barry finishes up and washes his hands, Ken enters carrying a large magazine) Ken: Y-yo, you known, I've just about had it with your little mind games. Barry: What's that? Ken: Italian Vogue. (he curls the magazine tight) Barry: Mamma Mia, that's a lot of pages. Ken: It's a lot of ads. Barry: Remember what Van said. Why is your life any more valuable than mine? Ken: That's funny, I just can't seem to recall that! (He whacks Barry with the magazine. He misses and knocks everything off the vanity. He grabs a can of air freshener.) Ken: I think something stinks in here! (He sprays at Barry) Barry: I love the smell of flowers. Ken: Yeah, How do you like the smell of flames?! (He lights the stream) Barry: Not as much. (Barry screams) Barry flies in a circle. Ken, trying to stay with him, spins in place. There are flames outside the bathroom door. Ken slips on the Italian Vogue, falls backward into the shower, pulling down the shower curtain. The can hits him in the head, followed by the shower curtain rod, and the rubber duck. Ken reaches back, grabs the handheld shower head. He whips around, looking for Barry. There's a water bug near the drain. Water bug: Water bug! Not taking sides! Barry is on the toilet tank. He comes out from behind a shampoo bottle, wearing a chapstick cap as a helmet. Barry: Ken, look at me! I'm wearing a chapstick hat! This is pathetic! (Ken is turning the hand shower nozzle from "GENTLE", to "TURBO", to "LETHAL".) Ken: I've got issues! (Ken fires the water at Barry, knocking him into the toilet. The items from the vanity (emory board, lipstick, eye curler, etc.) are on the toilet seat. Ken looks down at Barry.) Ken: Well, well, well, a royal flush! Barry: You're bluffing. Ken: Am I? Barry: Surf's up, dude! Ken: Poo water! Barry: That bowl is gnarly. Ken: Except for those dirty yellow rings! Vanessa: Kenneth! What are you doing?! Ken: You know what, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! Vanessa: 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! Ken: Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? Vanessa: No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Ken: Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Vanessa: Goodbye, Ken. Ken: Augh! Vanessa: Whew. (Ken exits, then re-enters frame) Ken: And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! Vanessa: I'm sorry about all that. Ken: (re-enters again) Ken: I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! Barry: I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Vanessa: Are you going to be okay for the trial tomorrow? Barry: Oh, I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. Layton: We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Adam: Now that's a good idea. You can really see why he's considered one of the very best lawyers... Barry: Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Layton: Oh don't worry Mr. Gammil. 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. Layton: Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? Barry: We're friends. Layton: Good friends? Barry: Yes. Layton: How good? Barry: What. Layton: Do you live together? Barry: Wait a minute this isn’t about... Layton: Are you her little...bedbug? Barry: Hey, that’s not the kind of? I've seen a bee documentary or two. Now from what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children in the hive? Barry: Yeah, but... Layton: So those aren't even your real parents! Dad: Oh, Barry... Barry: Yes, they are! Adam: Hold me back! Layton: You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson?

Adam: He's denouncing bees! Layton: And don't y'all date your cousins? Vanessa: Objection! Adam: I'm going to pincushion this guy! Barry: Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Layton: Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Judge: Order! Order! Please! Layton: The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! Judge: Mr. Montgomery! Layton: 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! Barry: Adam, stay with me. Adam: I can't feel my legs. Bailiff Take it easy. Layton: Oh! What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? Judge: Please 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 - Thank you! legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. Now here’s Don with the 5-day. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. The important thing is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria they got it from downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was that like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think that 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 do you think the humans will 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. Say, 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. Adam that's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Barry: No, Get up, Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. You get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step 29 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. You know Bees are trained to fly kind of haphazardly, and as a result, quite often we don't make very good time. I actually once heard a pretty funny story about a bee... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer are we going allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who have all run perfectly 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. Barry: Members of the jury, 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 these smoke machines in man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we going to do? - He's playing the species card. Barry: 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! Barry: Vanessa, we won! Vanessa: Yay! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. Barry: I'm OK! Vanessa, do you know what this means? All the honey is finally going to 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 do you think is out there? All right. 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 are you demand as a settlement? First, we're going to 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, big-headed bad-breath stink machine. I believe We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nausea 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? Oannonball! We're shutting down 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 around here? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - No, they’re just home. They don't know what to do. They're laying out, they're sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Yeah, but 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... And now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. We have so much now. 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. Barry:What happened here? Vanessa:That is not the half of it. Barry:Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And who's fault do you think that is? You know, I'm going to guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I guess I didn't think that bees not needing to make honey would affect all these others things. And it's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. Well, that's our whole SAT test right there. So you take away the 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? And I know this is also partly my fault. Barry: How about a suicide pact? Vanessa: How would we do it? Barry: I'll sting you, you step on me. Vanessa: That just kills you twice. Barry: Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I got to 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 up to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just want to 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, and it's all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. and I wanted to help you with your flower shop. Intead, I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. Nonetheless I have another idea, and it's greater than all my previous great ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, here’s what I’m thinking they have

the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we got do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. Vanessa: Bees. Barry: Park. Vanessa: Pollen! Barry: Flowers. Vanessa: Repollination! Barry: Across the nation! Barry: Alright 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. That a's nice brooch by the way. Thank you. It was a gift. Then once we're inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? Yeah! I could be the princess, and ...yes, I think You could be I’ve- The pea! Yes, I got it. - Sorry I'm late Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It’s supposed to be under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I’m going to go talk to the marshall. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby will do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. And once we’re at the airport there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - Did you and your insect pack your own float? - Yes. Has this float been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes and everything in your pockets?? - Can you remove your stinger. Sir? - That'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 going to work Vanessa. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. I'm afraid we have a bit of bad weather in the New York area. And looks like we're going to be experience a couple of hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I've got to get up there and talk to these guys. Be careful. Hey, can I get some help with this Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Excuse me, Captain, I'm in a real situation here. - What did you say, Hal? - I didn’t say anything Bee! No, no! Don't freak out! There's a chance my entire species... What are you doing? Stop! - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain speaking. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? I tried to talk to them, but then there was a Dustbuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded Now one's bald, one's in a boat, and 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. Is there anyone onboard who has 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 a minute, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a very suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh off his stunning legal victory... That's Barry! ...is now attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! Well, we have an electrical storm in the area, and two individuals at the controls of a jumbo jet with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute Mr Ditchwater. There's a honey bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson's work and his no-account compadres. Haven't they done enough damage already. But isn't he your only hope right now? Come on, technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. The wings are too small their bodies are too big... Hey, hold on a second.

Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass doesn't make sense." - Get this on the air! - You got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. Mr Ditchwater, the way we work may be a mystery to you. Because making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you something about a small job. If you do it really well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to doing what we do best working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow.Black and yellow! - All:Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. You know what, This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait a minute, I think we were on autopilot that whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! Well, then 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 would do, and you copy me with the wings of the plane! You don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We happen to be in a lot of trouble here. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I don’t think I can do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. Listen to me You have got 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 - Hold it! - Why? Come on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Hey Benson, have you got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. Alright you two, what do you say we drop this tin can on the blacktop? What blacktop? Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Adam: 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. But it's strong, and it's pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose of the plane 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. 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 boys? Give me full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other flower! - Which flower? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant black and yellow flower pulsating made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Bring your tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This is 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 of it. Smell it. Full reverse! Easy 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 man! Genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Barry: 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 going to survive as a species, this is our moment! So, what do you say? Are we going to be bees, or just Museum of Natural History keychains? Bees: We're bees! Male bee: Keychain! Barry: Then everyone, follow me! Except Keychain. Pollen Jock: Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. (places a pollen jock jacket on Barry and the 3 pollen jocks cheer while Vanessa gives him a thumbs up) Vanessa: Yay! Barry: I'm a

Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I got to do are the sleeves. (The pollen jocks toss Barry a nectar pack) Barry: Oh, yeah. Mom: (proudly) That's our Barry! (Martin nods proudly in agreement) 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! Yes, 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 here will be able to 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 for a wedding, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. Vanessa:You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next? Who's next? Barry: All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Vanessa: Thank you, Barry! Ken: (Sees a sign that says "Vanessa and Barry: Flowers, Honey, Legal Advice" and becomes disgusted) Ken: Ugh! That bee is living my life! Andy: (guiding Ken protectively) Let it go, Kenny. Ken: When will this nightmare end?! Andy: Let it all go. Barry: Beautiful day to fly. Pollen Jock: Sure is. Barry: Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. Adam: You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! Barry: Me? Adam: Thinking bee, thinking bee! Get smart and start thinking bee! Barry: Gee! Adam: Flying here and buzzin' there. Barry: I'm lovin' the views. Adam: Listen to me cousin, every buzzer must use to be a bee! Barry: Or not to be. Adam: Start thinking bee! Adam: Barry, you got no occupation. Barry: What, you mean like pollination? Adam: Hey now! That's thinking bee! Barry: Start thinking bee! Adam: Listen to me fella, ain't you been on a tour? Can't cha' stripes of Black and yella. Barry: I just want to be sure! Adam: To be a bee! Barry: Start thinking bee! Can't I wait and see? Adam: No, Barry that's not to be! Be a busy little bee not a tizzy little bee! Barry: Alright, hold it, hold it, hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. (Adam: What it's like to be a thinking!) Barry: I'm sorry. Adam: What? Barry: I'm sorry, everyone. Can we stop here? Adam: Oh, Barry. Barry: I'm not making a major life decision in the middle of a huge musical production number! Adam: Alright, alright. Barry: Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

Omg

[addictofsupernatural]

Spidey Senses (pt. 1)

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: You have a big secret about your life, and so might your crush.

Word Count: 2253

Chapter 2

You woke up, looking around at the apartment to yourself, and got ready for school. You made yourself some scrambled eggs; they were quick enough to make. You ate and cleaned up, not that anyone was expecting you to. You went to the bathroom, looking at yourself one last time. You frowned, but smoothened out your shirt.

Peter liked this shirt. He once told you that at lunch, when you brought him cookies made cookies for him and Ned. It was a Bowsette shirt, and this time instead of wearing it lose you tucked it in. Maybe he'd like that? Not that it was doing much for your body. You did read somewhere that having confident vibes was attractive, so maybe you just needed to act confident, and he'd notice that you wore the shirt he likes? It was stupid, but you were doing it anyways.

You locked up your apartment and walked to Peter's nicer apartment complex, where you sat down on the untagged steps outside. A few minutes later Peter came rushing out with a piece of toast in his mouth. You turned and smiled, perking up.

"Morning Peter." You chirped. No matter how bad you could feel sometimes, you couldn't help but have the best of attitudes around Peter.

"Morning." He said, voice muffled. He took a bite and ripped off a piece of toast, silently giving it to you. You took it and ate with him. "So I just got a text from Ned, and we have to pair up in biology for a project on the genetics of different forms of life."

He sounded pepped up, and so were you. You loved doing projects. It was a stress reliever from working at nights, and you got to spend some time after school with Peter. To you, projects were amazing. "So, who're you gonna pick for your partner?" You teased.

"Of course only the one person I know who can keep up with me." He nudged you, and you giggled. "I wish Liz was in that class. She's really smart."

Then there was that. Peter's crush on Liz. Though it made you feel terrible about yourself, you couldn't help but constantly compare yourself to Liz. She was so much prettier than you, smarter, actually popular. Not that you really cared about popularity, but it seemed like everyone adored her, Peter included. You didn't dislike her, you just wished you could be more like her. But if she's what makes Peter happy, then you would try to be the most supportive friend you could be.

"I bet you do." You did your best to smile. "Are we still on for joining the Mathletes?"

"I don't know. What if I get too nervous around Liz and start messing everything up? Then I'll look like an idiot."

"First of all, never call yourself an idiot. You're a genius, own it. Second, me and Ned are gonna join with you. We'll have your back Peter. We'll all have some fun, and you'll get to spend more time with her. We'll be in the back for support if you need us."

He nodded and put an arm around you, squeezing your shoulders as he side hugged you. "Thanks y/n. I can always count on you and Ned to be really awesome friends."

Though it took a blow to your feelings and self esteem, all you responded with was "Of course." as you walked into school and met up with Ned.

Sometimes, keeping things to yourself was just the better option. There were two things you kept from Peter. One, you were completely and undoubtedly in love with him. Only Ned knew about this, since he's just as close to you as Peter is. Two, the day you went to the Stark museum field trip and got bit by that spider changed your life forever.

As the day went on, so did your anxiousness. It was good this time; you didn't have work today at Delmar's Deli-Grocery, meaning it was time to suit up. Queens always needed help, and you were happy to do it. So was this other guy with similar abilities, but you never met him, so you didn't worry about it.

Mathletes went pretty much as expected. Peter was adorably awkward around Liz, but a genius none the less. You actually had some fun with Ned, goofing off as well as being able to get some work done. Peter would come back to you two every now and then to give updates. "You okay?" Ned quietly asked.

"Yeah, I'm good." You rested your chin on your hand and leaned over. "What about you? Like anybody right now?"

He gave you a goofy smile. "Nobody specific, but I'm hoping being in the Mathletes will show girls how smart I am."

You gave him a toothy grin in return. "I'm sure they will. Girls who are worth your time are suckers for nerds." Ned nodded his head eagerly in response.

Peter caught a glimpse of your conversation with Ned about girls liking nerds, and it sounded like a really tempting topic to over and listen about, but he had to focus on Liz. Giving her his main attention will show her that this is just as important to him as it is to her.

When Mathletes was over, Peter went over to you and an excited Ned, trying to ignore that nagging left out feeling he was having. "What'd I miss?"

"Y/n's gonna paint the Millennium Falcon and Death Star on my walls!" Ned said excitedly.

"Woah, really?"

You shrugged and smiled. "Yeah, it's not a big deal. I like painting, and it's not like my landlord would let me do it on my own walls. His parents are gonna take me to buy the paints and pay me for doing it too, so it's really just me getting all the benefits."

"It's gonna happen next week, so we should have a marathon over the weekend." Ned proposed.

"I love that idea!" Peter said, getting pumped up and excited in a very cute way he does. "We should do it at your house!" He said to you.

"I'm so down!" You excitedly said. "But right now I have homework to do, so let's walk home."

Ned said his goodbyes as he got picked up. You and Peter walked home together talking about Star Wars and how he would love it if you painted for him sometime. You promised him you would and said your goodbyes, watching him walk up his apartment complex steps and disappearing. You then quickly ran home to put on your super suit and head out.

Meanwhile, Peter came home to see Mr. Tony Stark in his very own living room. "Aunt May, I'm ho–"

The two heads turned to see the suddenly out of breath teen. "Oh, hey! Mr. Stark was just telling me how you got accepted." Aunt May smiled.

"W...wha–how–um, hi." He breathed out.

Tony smiled effortlessly as he got up. "I was just talking to your Aunt May over here about your acceptance for your application into the Stark internship." He winked. "Can we talk privately in your room?"

"Ye...uh, sure. Course." They both went into his room and Tony closed the door, looking around the room.

"So your aunt seems nice." Tony said nonchalantly. "Really doesn't look like an aunt."

"Um, why are you here Mr. Stark? I never filled out an–"

"She's cute." He picked up a framed picture of you and Peter, you hugging him while you both smiled. Tony instantly recognized you as the other person he was going to recruit.

"Y–uh, I guess." The question was very flustering for Peter.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"Woah! No, we're just friends. There's actually this other girl–"

Tony set the picture down and went on to his phone. "Okay, I'm bored with this story now." He then pulled up a video of a disguised man stop a car from crashing into a bus. "This you?"

"No! I don't know who that is."

"Yeah?" He looked up and got the broom that was against the wall, pushing one of the air vents out of the way and watching Peter's suit fall while tied to a rope. "Tell anybody about your powers?"

"No! Not even Aunt May, I promise. It's been a secret since I got them."

Tony nodded. "I'll cut to the point. I need you to come with me to Berlin. There's something you can help me with. Think of it as a mission. Are you up for it?" Peter only nodded his head. "Good, we got one more stop to make."

You got home to your apartment after stopping a robbery at a fast food restaurant. You took a shower and finished your homework fairly quickly. After backing some double brownie cookies for the weekend, you started pencil drawing to pass the time. That's when you heard a knock at the door. Your hair was still a bit damp as you curiously got up and answered the door. In front of your very eyes was the infamous Tony Stark.

"Woah." Was the first thing to drop out of your mouth. You wanted to slap yourself. You quietly said, "Hello."

You stuck out your hand for a hand shake, trying to make it as firm as you could while feeling nervous around the celebrity. As he shook it, you swallowed your nervousness down and remembered that everyone has flaws and he's just a regular person.

"Hi, can I come in?" You forced a smile and nodded, stepping aside as he came in and walked around your house. In all honesty, it was kind of making you uncomfortable how much observing he was doing. He noticed the same picture Peter had was hanged up on your wall. "Is this your boyfriend?"

You nervously laughed at the thought of that fantasy. "I wish." You blurted out. He raised his eyebrows and looked at you, feeling that this was going to be fun to tease about over this mission. "But I've been friend zoned, so yeah." You quickly said. "Anyways, would you like something to eat or drink?"

"Got any sweets or something? I am kind of hungry." He didn't look at you and kept wandering around your apartment. You silently nodded and took out the container of cookies you just put in the cupboard. You made those for the Star Wars binge, but if you had to sacrifice some for Tony Stark, so be it. You opened it from the kitchen counter, and he took one while inspecting your kitchen. "Oh wow. These are good. Make them yourself?"

"Yeah actually. Thanks." He opened your finance drawer with your bills, newspaper coupons and food stamps. You quickly closed it. "Um, please don't look at that!"

He looked you in the eye for a second before nodding and looking at another picture of Peter and you, this time with you trying to cover your face from the selfie. "So, I've read your personal file."

He was so straight forward that you didn't know how to react. "Oh. Are you even allowed to do that?"

"I'm allowed to bend the rules a bit sometimes." You huffed in response. Rich people. "Emancipated at 15. That's a lot."

"Yeah, I guess. I'd like to think I've adjusted well." You put on a smile again.

He leaned against the kitchen counter. "You miss your mom?"

"Um, she needed to learn how to take care of herself before she could take care of anybody else. I'm okay with that." You rocked on your heals.

"That's very mature of you, but you didn't answer my question."

You really didn't know why you felt so open with him. Maybe it was all that internet stalking. Damn. But you weren't about to spill out your life to this man and scare him off. No matter how well you felt like you kind of knew him. "Mm, it's complicated."

"And what about your dad?"

You truthfully never really think about him. "What about him?"

"You don't want to meet him? Know anything about him?"

You let out a laugh. "The only thing I want to know about him is his address, so I could file for some child support."

Tony smirked, deciding that he liked you. "Can you even file for yourself."

You sighed. "Probably not. Sometimes the government can suck."

He nodded his head, his eyes averting to your room. Shit. "What're those?"

"Oh, um, you don't need to see that!" He walked a lot faster than you and went into your room. You silently cursed your small legs. "Wow. These are a lot of drawings. And there's a lot of Thor. Do we have a little crush on a certain God?"

"Maybe!" You blurted out, much to Tony's amusement.

There was a small desk over a bulletin board full of your drawings. You got the desk when you saw pieces of wood being thrown out of a Home Depot because of chips and scratches, and you volunteered to take it off their hands. You built it yourself, wobbly and uneven, and painted some of it with the paints Aunt May got you. It made you look like the help, but it was nothing compared to the drawings you had of the superheroes.

"So what if I do? I know a ton of people who have fake crushes on you!"

"And you're not one of them?" He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Should I be offended?"

You smiled, genuinely smiled, and shook your head. "People have fake crushes on unrealistically perfect people. Thor, Thor is unrealistically perfect. You have a ton of flaws but are essentially a good person at heart... With all respect."

"What makes you think I'm not just perfect?" He was truthfully interested in hearing your take on this.

"Because it takes a person with anxiety to know a person with anxiety." Tony uncomfortably shifted his weight onto his other foot.

"I've seen some bad stuff too, not as bad as you, but I know that memories creep up when things get too much to handle. You have a ton of things to handle. I've seen some interviews that get to you. Some things that people say. The rude reporters. Even though a lot of people say bad things about you, your company, and even your family, you still have it in you to fight for everyone. That's amazing. You're not unrealistically perfect, but you are realistically perfect to me."

He paused for a moment, absorbing what was said. "If you're not in love with me, then why do you take the time to know so much about me?"

"Because, while I don't think of you as the fake love of my life, I see you as someone I look up to."

"Believe me kid, you should look up to someone else." He tried to joke it off.

You shrugged. "I don't have anyone else." You felt embarrassed suddenly, looking down at your desk. You then smiled again and searched through your drawings, picking up one of Tony smiling. "Just think of me as your number one fan. You can have that."

"Huh." Was all he said as he looked at it.

"What? Not used to seeing yourself smile?" You giggled. "Anyways, why are you here?"

"Oh, right." He took out his phone, showing you a video of you suited up, stopping a moving car full of robbers until the police showed up.

You sighed. "Okay, you found me. What now?"

"You're not going to try and lie for your secret identity?" Tony smiled again.

"To Ironman?" You giggled again. "No."

"Well, there's a mission in Berlin I need you and the Spiderman's assistance for."

"Is that what he calls himself?"

"Yeah. You met him?" You shook your head, and Tony knew he was going to enjoy this. "Well, you're about to. Ready Spidergirl?"

"Um, shouldn't I pack or something?"

"No need. I got you provisions and clothes for a few days. Especially considering that's probably the only kind of things you have."

You clutched your baggy shirt. "Rude, but true."

"Okay then, stay here." He then left the apartment for a bit and came back with a nice looking shirt and ripped jeans. "I don't want people thinking I found a homeless girl off the side of the street."

"You're so mean." You breathed out a laugh. "Thank you though. I'll be out in a bit." You stepped out a minute later uncomfortably. "Ready?"

"Look at you, looking like a girl." He teased.

You laughed. "Who'd have known? Let's go."

"You ready to meet the Spiderman?" Tony asked as you both stepped down from the apartment complex.

"Should I be? I don't even know who that is." He winked at you before opening the door for you. You slid in the back seat and looked at a surprised Peter dead in the eye. "Holy shit!"

[yeahishipthatsowhat]

Revenge [Billie Eilish X Marvel - Bury a Friend AU]

TRIGGER WARNING: This story has torture, death, manipulated suicide, slight gore, and psychological manipulation involved, please don't read this if you are affected or triggered by any of the above. This is your warning, this fic has been tagged accordingly.

+×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×

Peter has been bullied for years, he's always the new kid when he's forced to move from state to state for his uncle's job. He had high hopes for Midtown High, but it all crumbles down after he becomes a target of a certain groups hate. His only friend came in the form of Bucky Barnes, a senior like himself, who had approached him on the first day with an offer of friendship.

But even Bucky can't save him in the end.

------------------------------------------------------------

He was blindfolded, a gag in his mouth, and his hands bound behind his back. His head hurt, and he was being dragged somewhere, the cool air on his his exposed flesh, and the sound of fallen leaves being crushed in his wake.

. . .

He hurts, everything hurts, Steve had taken his time roughing him up, Tony watching with a smile on his mouth and a plethora of other ways to hurt him falling from his lips.

Nat had brought a taser. . . both her and Thor had a fun time using it on him.

Clint used him for knife practice, he had only brought three blades, but he was good shot, not once missing his target.

Wanda and Strange, liked to play games with words of malice. Telling him of all they would do to him and those he cared about. Hurting his mind more than his body.

But despite everything, the worse was when he came face to face with Bucky.

Bucky was bound, with a cut in his lips and beginning of a black eye forming on his face.

"I'm so sorry Peter, I tried to stop this, but I can't"

The tears leaving Bucky's eyes were real, and Peter knew it.

When they uncuffed Buck and gave him a gun. Peter knew what would happen next.

. . .

They talked about it, and for the first few days it was great, no guilt, no anger, just some good laughs about poor Peter Parker. But then the things started happening, strange and unexplainable things.

. . .

Steve's heart would race whenever he saw a flash of color. He swore he saw a blue sweater, that blue sweater, at the end of every hallway, but when he'd do a double take no one would be there.

Tony had a feeling he was being watched, his skin prickling when he thought he was alone.

Thor had been getting shocked all day, nearly getting electrocuted in Mr. Banner's science class.

Clint found himself missing things. Things he knew had been left in one place but weren't there when he came back.

Natasha had slipped during gymnastics, a tight lightning like pain shooting through her legs as she when to jump.

Wanda had nightmares that didn't seem to go away when she was awake.

Strange found it harder to focus, a splitting headache every time he looked at his books.

. . .

The small things got worse and worse every day. Laughs and smiles were traded in for baggy eyes from restless nights and the weight of suffering on every shoulder. Spring break might ease the tension they all felt.

. . .

Peter had been missing for a whole week before the first one cracked.

. . .

Tony had gone paranoid, eyes following him behind every corner and through every door.  He couldn't go to sleep, the eyes keeping him up at night, and when he finally fell into slumber, his dream were filled with the image of a beautiful boy and the roses that emerged out of the wounds of his rotting flesh. Inside each rose was an eye staring straight back at him, unblinking and crazed.

Tony could feel a gaze on his back, someone had to watching him, following him. And Tony could only take so much.

He darted past his parents calling out for him, straight out of his house, running and running until for the first time in a week he felt like he wasn't being watched.

To bad he wasn't paying attention to where he was.

The Medical Examiner said he was dead a few minutes after impact with the car, but Rhodey would guess that it felt more like hours.

.

Wanda saw him again today. The sweet boy with the soft brown hair and the pitch black eyes. He was always there, wherever she went. Sometimes he would be alone, and Wanda felt a sense of relief if he was by himself. But when he brought friends, that's where the true terror played out in front of her eyes.

One time he brought a man with horns on his head to her family dinner. She had to watch her family get slaughtered and served as she dined with the demons who ate the flesh off the bones of her loved ones.

Another time the boy brought a small child with flaming eyes with him. They played and played and she had to watch as flesh melted and the world burned in front of her desk in Physics class.

The worse was when she saw her body decomposing, still locked in her head as her she brought her rotting hand to her face and watched she the flesh fell apart.

She couldn't bear it anymore.

"Stop this, please stop the things I see"

The boy simple looked at her and hummed before smiling and walking away.

"Come with me and I'll end the visions"

And so she followed the boy, tripping over rocks and roots, feeling the ocean breeze on her skin. He was the only thing she could see, his hand reaching for hers.

"Come to me and the awful things you see will be no more"

So she stepped forward, a leap of faith, and her foot felt no earth beneath her.

The newspaper read "Fatal Accident: High School Senior Falls Off Cliff"

.

Thor wanted nothing more than to lay in bed and sleep, but the blankets shocked his skin every time he moved. He'd never heard of static cling that hurt so much. Plugging in his phone to charge left him with either mild discomfort or a 2nd degree burn.

Nothing electronic in his house would work for him, everything automatically going haywire and shutting off the moment he got to close.

He probably shouldn't have been out in the rain. But sometimes a storm can move in when it's least expected.

And who knew lightning stuck twice? Or three times? or even five? Or enough that the all that was left was burnt flesh and the smell of a Christmas ham.

.

Clint knew where he put his wallet when he went to shower, it should have been in the same place as always. But lately he was missing things. Missing his bus when normally he's never late. Missing his notes he just took last class. Even missing a catch and breaking his pinky finger.

Clint knew he had put his phone on the wireless charger. He remembered it so clearly. So why did he hear his phone ringing down stairs?

Perhaps the worse thing he ended up missing was not his phone, but the first step on his way downstairs.

He tried to crawl to his phone, his head bleeding and body in pain, but for some reason when he reached where he had thought he had heard it earlier he saw nothing. But a familiar tune of his cell phone ringtone played from up stairs.

Its sad how many teens don't pay attention to where they place their things. You never wanna stick it somewhere you'll regret later.

.

Steve awoke in pain, blue and purple bruises covering his body. Perhaps the guys had been a bit to forceful during practice last night? Suddenly he felt dizzy, and then the feeling of something warm dripping into his chest.

Blood. Another bloody nose. He'd been getting them at least once a day every since. . .

No matter, he'd just have to make sure he was fully focused and in tip top shape for the game tonight.

Its hard. They're losing by one, a two point conversion would get them the win. Just before the play Steve sees the blue sweater, it's dirty and covered in blood. He can feel the pain in his chest and the start of a dizzying nose bleed only after its too late.

He's tackled and underneath two teams. By the time he's uncovered, well . . . let's just say the journalist and activist for higher standards of football safety have their martyr.

.

Natasha couldn't move. It's like she's stuck in place, her muscles tensed as if they're ready for a zap. It takes two whole minutes before she's able to move again.

It happens randomly, in the middle of class, at the beginning of lunch, at the end of dinner, even in the dead of night. Its never really harmed her much, except when she was running for a jump in gymnastics and suddenly her legs gave out.

The doctors say it's 2 weeks in the cast, and by day three she's has had enough of it. It's hard enough trying to get around the house, but her cat sees to have it out for her, dashing in front of her legs every time she tries to move.

Natasha just wants to take a nice bath, soak and relax. The cast's not supposed to get wet, but she's smart, setting up a ledge on the bath to place it.

The bedroom, the kitchen, and the living room, she checks everywhere but can't find her phone. Even from her home phone, but till there's no sound. She must've left it on silent, but there's no way she's gonna be able to relax in the bath if there's no music.

The silence freaks her out to much.

So she takes he dad's old two-in-one radio and cd player, pops in one of her favorite artist and gets the bath ready. Leaving the door open a crack so she's not suffocated by the steam.

When she's finally in, the warm water feels like heaven, her body sinking into the tub. It's nice even though the water isn't filled to the top.

She's too afraid of getting her cast wet.

Suddenly, amongst the sweet sounds of music coming through the cd player, the tub starts filling, water steadily coming through the spout. Natasha has a second to think 'I hate this stupid old house' before reaching to turn the water off. But her hand never touches it. Her body seizes, body fuzzy with static, and bolts of pain lacing through her body.

Her body is lowering into the water, and there is nothing she can do. Panic sets in as her head slowly sinks into the water, and she can barely breathe let alone hold her breath.

She opens her eyes in the tub, trying to stay calm, when she sees it. The familiar black of her cats tail.

Except when the cat turns to look at Nat, it's eyes aren't the usual green she's used to, but instead a stunning red. Maybe the lack of air has gotten to her?

She can feel the pain leaving her body, for a moment she thinks she's in the clear. But then the cat brushes against the player, and she watches as it makes its decent towards the tub.

She screams, the air leaving her lungs, bubbles coming to the surface as the player makes contact with the water.

Was Natasha really so upset about her injury to do this to her self? She seemed so distant the past couple of days. How could they not have seen this coming?

.

Stephan thinks little of wasting a day away by doing nothing but watching tv. But lately he can't focus, his head erupting in pain when he starts to study. Even documentaries are off limits. So he's stuck with children's shows and mindless classics.

Stephan figured a few pills might help the headaches and the sleepless nights. And they do, but only for an hour or so.

One day Stephen ends up staring at a book for a solid hour, unable to focus and read more than a sentence before it becomes too much for him, slamming the book shut and practically running to the bathroom.

Just two pills he tells himself. But it doesn't last as long the second time around. One more pill won't hurt. Two more will make it better. Maybe one blue one and one green one might make it easier. Add in a sleeping pill for when he can't make it through the night. Two sleeping pills might make the nights dreamless.

Every time he takes them it he feels like himself again, but the effects never last long, he needs more and more every time.

Stephen really should be paid attention to the warnings. He was practically chugging the blue pills, green ones sprinkled in, and the red ones, well, he used those more often than he liked.

He's reading one day, yeah that's right, actually reading, when his vision starts to go blurry, his mind drifting, NO, he can't stop now, this part is the climax, the part where all his questions get answered.

He tries to get up to get more pills, but the moment he's off the chair his vision blacks out and he falls on the ground. It takes a second to regain his train of thought, when he abruptly throws up, the taste of bile on his tongue.

When was the last time he ate, really ate, not just a snack? Had he been that focused on reading, on finally being able to connect with the world again that he skipped meals? What day was it? When was the last time he drank water, besides to wash the pills down? How many had he taken?

He questions himself till his head pounds with pain and his vision goes spotty. He sees movement in the corner of his eye, but his head is foggy, he can't tell what it is.

A second later his book falls near his head, it's pages open, but Stephen can't make out anything. He looks over the page, yearning to be able to read the ending before he's gone.

He eyes are heavy, his chest hurting, he wants one last glace at the page. Then he sees it, the one line he can make out, 'A delicate thing like you will be fun to break, Peter', and the blood in his veins run cold. He said that once, to a boy, a boy in a blue sweater, whose blood had stained his shirt.

He's almost out when a thought crosses his mind. 'I don't remember a character in the book named Peter.'

Poor Stephen Strange, so absorbed in his books that he missed the world around him. What a shame that in the end all be had were printed words on a page.

. . .

Bucky arrived at school after Spring break, his heart and head just a heavy as before. He had been away for the entire week, his friend Sam inviting him on a trip out of state.

He kept his head down, focused on getting to class a making it through another day.

He was shocked to enter homeroom and find flowers on seven desks. He looked around trying to find answers when he over heard a conversation.

"Can you believe it?"

"They're all dead."

"Scott said that they were all accidents, but the way they died . . . and all during break, there's no way that all seven of them died by accident."

"Could it have been a suicide pack?"

"They all had good lives, why end it short?"

"I don't know man, but did you hear about Peter?"

The bell rang and The conversation ended as both students took their place in class.

Peter? Bucky's chest tightened. What about Peter? Did they find his body? His poor body broken and bloody, tear tracks down his soft delicate skin. Bucky never did know what they did with his body.

He was nearly over taken with guilt and pain, the beginning of tears prickling in the corner of his eyes.

"Hey there Bucky. I missed you."

Bucky froze, the air around him stilled, his heart nearly stoped before pounding loudly in his chest.

The boy walked in front took of him, took the seat before his own, say down, and turned to face him.

Peter was the same as before, but not. His soft brown curls framed his face, he rich brown eyes staring straight back at Bucky's own. His lips just a pink and pretty as before, the smile that rested on them kind but guarded.

The thing that had changed, wasn't his body, but the air around him. He wasn't as weak and small as he seemed before. The feeling of vulnerability gone, replaced with a strength Bucky never knew Peter possessed.

Bucky's hand reached out to touch the boy's cheek, stopping right before he touched him.

"Peter" the reverence in Bucky's voice was palpable.

Peter moved his cheek to Bucky's hand, eyes closed and a gentle breathe leaving him.

When Peter looked back at him, Bucky couldn't help but smile.

He should be afraid, scared, frightened by what Peter is, or what he can do. Not in this moment he feels nothing but peace.

One by one they all fell. Justice or Revenge? It doesn't matter, it's done now.