This past Saturday afternoon I was at the park with my loving children, Madison and Olivia, enjoying a summer stroll when all of a sudden we were forced to witness the disgusting, appalling act of a bird having sex with a bee.
I was in the middle of explaining to Maddie and Olie the difference between the dogwood trees that line the park when it started. We saw a large group of people gathering around something, so naturally we joined. It turned out to be, a bird and a bee. At first, I thought they were fighting, but after a few minutes it was clear something entirely different was going on. Finally, when what we all thought was fighting became too much, one of the retirees that saunters at our park emptied a cup of water onto the bird and bee to get them to stop. But they seemed to enjoy it - like enjoy that they were wet. That’s when I knew.
My understanding is the entire ordeal lasted for about 50 minutes. I, of course, didn’t stick around to watch it all - but from what I saw the bee was in charge. It was bouncing all around that blue jay like a salacious hurricane. That bird was squeaking and flapping as if it were drowning in fire all while clearly presenting what I guess were its genitals. It was monstrous. Imagine having your children crying and asking “How come the bird doesn’t fly away?” and all you can say is “Sometimes adults and apparently animals enjoy what is known as ‘the good type of pain.’”
Maddie said she doesn’t like animals anymore - especially birds and bees. We have a pet parakeet, Mr. Feathers. They used to be best friends, but now Maddie won’t even enter the kitchen where we keep his cage. Being that it is the sole place in our home where we keep food, Maddie has survived on Papa Johns and Slurpees for five whole days. This haunts me.
Well, just as I thought it was over, the bee finished and rested on the ground glistening in the sun - that little old bird started having its way with the bee. The perversion of that bird as it mounted the bee was in full swing like a trapeze artist - inserting whatever it was that he had (assuming that it was a he) with an artist’s precision.
This is when the bird took their sex act to new heights. Shooting from the dirt and into the sky, both the bird and the bee made their way through the very same dogwoods my children swing from. Bumping from limb to limb, spewing viscous liquid onto onlookers - these two freaks of nature appeared to be possessed by Cerberus himself, the original animal of sin. Finally they landed - or rather, crashed -into the side of a toddler’s head and onto a plate of potato salad. But of course that didn’t stop those two.
I wish I could say I left at this point, but it wasn’t until I heard the bee scream that I was able to pull myself away from the demonic sex circus our beautiful park had transformed into.
I never knew bees could scream - but they can. For long, too. I’ll never forget that blood curdling noise and I don’t even remember my mother’s final words. It sounded like a person screaming for help as their eyes were ripped out while also falling down a never ending well.
I for one think the park should be closed until further notice. The heaviest of the pollen season is just ahead of us, and there’s no telling what that may bring.