Bee Man awoke from his hive one day with a start.  He had fallen asleep in his honey bath the previous night and was now quite sticky.  He fought his way free, slowly but surely, and made his way to his police radio.

“BUZZZZZZZZ,” it said.  The radio had either come off the correct channel, or someone was saying ‘codswallop oligarchy’ in bee.  Bee Man checked his radio.  It did not appear to be a codswallop related transmission.  He adjusted the controls.

“We have a 10-26 off 4th street,” a deep, raspy voice crackled across the intercom.  Bee Man trudged over to his cape, slowed by the delicious goo coating his body.

“10-9?” a request for a repeat.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?”


“Ah, a 10-26 off 4th.”

It was just the kind of job for Bee Man!  With his cape firmly stuck against his back, he made for the Bee Mobile.  Some would call it a Smart Car painted black and yellow.  Others would call it justice.

Bee Man put the pedal to the floor, racing through the 40 MPH zone at 43.  There was no time to lose.  Just ahead, the flashing red and blue lights signified his arrival.  He threw the car into park and attempted to leap from his seat.  Still a bit sticky, he peeled himself free with some effort.

“Thank you officer,” Bee Man posed heroically as he spoke.  “I’ve got it from here.”

“It’s just a license plate violation,” the officer retorted. “Who are you?”

Bee Man looked at him for a moment.

“A job well done, son.  A job well done, indeed!”

“Hold on.  Don’t go anywhere,” the officer ordered, as he radioed in his sighting of Bee Man.

He must have been very excited, but there was no time for autographs!  There was only time for crime fighting, and possibly breakfast tacos, so away Bee Man rode.  There was much work to be done.