So there was a bee, the daughter of the Queen. All day she could fly from flower to flower but none could say how graceful she was, for she was not. Her mother chased her out from her palace and commanded her to work in a field where she could learn the art of living and not of dreaming. As the days went by the field routine became boring, so boring that she thought of constructing a window. Then one day a drake entered the field, well the bee was late that day, as she reached the field the drake flashed a smile at her. She turned around to make sure that the smile was for her (till date she has not figured out what was that smile for). She liked the drake instantly; after all, she had the ability to like anyone. The drake has a poor collection of pants, he wore rather too tight pants which were pulled up to the chest, and which clearly made his ugly legs more bowed. As she was someone who liked to help people in distress, she befriended the drake and helped him pick the suitable pants. The drake never carried change with him; the bee lent him thirty bucks to buy worms for his stomach. The bee often dreamed of riding a wild stallion like Genghis Khan in the mountain ranges of Mongolia; she too dreamed of the drake swimming majestically on her mother’s Royal pond while on the surface he looked calm and cool but inside the water he was paddling hard. The drake was not a lonely man, he had his duck, but how did it matter to her for she could fly. One day, she met her old friend the country mouse who knew all the smells of the world; the mouse told her that the drake was indeed a rich hawk. She wanted her token of appreciation for all the good deeds she did for him, after all, she was more like a nanny than a friend. He too treated her more like a nanny, and if so then she wanted her help to materialize into something tangible. But, when she pinged him for some monetary assistance, he shooed her off with his python, I mean the real python (let’s not get dirty here).
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