“Wha—?!”

“You heard me, she really ain’t beating around the bush, bud!”

To add context to this situation, a worker at my hive has informed me that the queen isn’t hooking up with other drones anymore—ever since I did what I had to, no other drones did.

By “what I had to,” I mean, add to the hive.

The queen’s a demanding bee—harsh, stern, and acts like she’s actually working all the time.

In reality, she’s lazy.

How do I know?

That’s what you get from hanging out with her for too long.

I did what I had to, being a drone, but now I get this bizarre news that’s sure to have the other drones overjoyed at not having to do that extra work.

“You’re telling me that the queen isn’t hooking up with any other drones?” I stared at the worker.

“Mmmhmmm,” she replied. “sounds like you really did something there. She’s actually working nowadays!”

On one occasion, I criticized the queen and told her how lazy she was—I did that over and over until she stopped rebutting my arguments. I insisted that she change those habits.

But that was dumb—she was in control of the hive, and I was just a drone.

And yet, I saw her working more and more, day by day, and I felt happy.

“She really isn’t going out with a new drone. Always sending for you, always talking about you, always looking real happy whenever I mention whatever good stuff I said that you said about her,” said the worker.

“And she’s sending for you for the umpteenth time today! Haven’t been able to find you for some time,” she added.

“Well, that’s a little difficult to refuse. I guess I should just do as I’m told, then. Not like my lifespan gets longer if I don’t listen.”

And sure enough, hours later, I’m stuck with the knowledge that I’m the only one with this workload from now on.