Barry the Bee's Worst Nightmare
It was Friday Night. Date night. Barry the Bee was in the shitter. He slicked back his hair with gel, and applied a fragrant colon. He was going to surprise his BEEautiful new girlfriend, Stacy, with two premium tickets to the jazz concert that would be concerting away tonight.
They had both found each other after a messy break-up. His ex, Veronica, left Barry for that loud angry man she divorced before who kinda sounds like that wheelchair guy from Family Guy which is really weird when you think about it, but Barry never pointed it out. Her last words to Barry were, and I quote, "you're always STINGING MY VAGINA." It was a devastating loss. Stacy didn't fare any better. Her ex, Chad Thundercock, thundercock'ed away when he Chadded her too much one day.
They didn't think it would work, at first. They were too broken for it to be serious. That's what they told themselves, but after their magical first date, things changed for the BEEtter.
Chad could give her the D, but Barry could give her the B.
Stacy knocked on the front door. Barry flew out of the bathroom and toward the doorknob. According to all known laws of physics, there is no way a bee should be able to open a door. It's wings are too small, which has fuck-all to do with this, and it's fat little body speaks for itself. Barry, of course, opens the door anyway, because fuck you he's Barry the Bee.
Barry invited Stacy in for a cup of coffbee. If you're ready for the godawful bee puns to BEE done with, then I have beead news for you. Barry stood on the rim of his coffee cup and threw off his sweater. "Look at me, I'm skinny-dipping!" He dove into the deep brown, then came back up for air. "Oh, Barry!" Stacy chortled.
"Didn't you have a surprise for me?" Stacy rested her chin in her hands. Her eyes glistened with curiosity, delight, and probably some tears because she had a mascara laden eyelash stuck in her eye. Barry nodded, and pulled out the two tickets he had saved for this special occasion. Where he pulled them out of was a mystery because he was buck-naked. He handed a moist ticket over to her. "You're welcome."
Stacy fell silent. Her smile had vanished. Barry's heart began beating hard against his chest. Something wasn't right.
"Oh no... No..." Stacy stood up, and pushed her chair back under the table. She gripped the ticket so tightly, her hands were shaking. Her breathing was erratic. She looked up at Barry, with tears in her eyes.
"Sweet'ums? What's wrong?" Barry asked her, trying to suppress his concern.
Barry was growing faint. He needed to sit down. He suspected, no, he knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. He needed another drink. His throat was dry, like the vast Sahara, clawing its way up from the pit of his knotted-up stomach to his mouth.
"I... I can't..." Stacy dropped the ticket and began sobbing.
Barry flew up into her face, grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, and screamed:
"DO YA LIKE JAZZ?!"
Credited to xOrangeCream
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