I don’t like losing.
Jack and I (well, mostly Jack, which is why the plan wasn’t very good) had a plan to get rid of the bees. They don’t like smoke, right? And on tv, when someone’s trying to get honey out of the hive, they always wear those funny clothes and have a big bellowy thing that pumps out lots of smoke and puts the bees to sleep, so the the person who owns the hive can steal all their honey. So Mr. Shelley is a would-be murderer AND a thief.
So we thought we’d put some smokebombs in the hive to make them all sleepy, and then push the hive into the pond so all the bees would drown! Actually, it was ME supposed to be doing all this. Jack is a big baby about being stung.
Hey! I made the smokebombs, didn’t I?
Shut up. You also wrapped me in a shower curtain and put one of Mum’s kitchen sieves over my head.
Total improvement.
SHUT UP. So I sneaked over when Shelley went out to post a letter, and set off the smokebombs. It looked like they worked, so I pushed the hive into the pond. But Mr. Shelley hasn’t kept it filled since we killed his fish, and it was only a few centimetres deep. Most of the hive was fine.
Then I fell in, and Shelley came home. I managed to get away, but he came over after dinner to return the shower curtain. Mum and Dad were furious. They think he’s so nice and we’re so mean and they wouldn’t believe us when we told them that he was making killer bees to kill us all in our beds!
We’re grounded for a month. :(
