"This is a monarchy," said the Queen, who wore a honey comb atop her bloated head. It was of a violet color and so were the berries on her golden tray. "This is a monarchy," and she watched the bees pollinate the plants through her window, wanting to scold a few for buzzing and jumping out of step. "This here..." she paused for a moment, then grabbed a jar of honey and poured it on her bosom, then the rest of her body. "Oh how I love to be Queen of the universe, of Order, I love it so much, I proclaim all the time that this is...." "A monarchy," finished one of her servants. "Yes," she huffed, "what is the forecast?" "As always a honey hue of golden glaze goo." "Yes, I like that very much, but, can it for once be violet? It is the color of royalty, you know." The servant looked at her glumly. "Um...that might take awhile. I'm sure there is no one honey bee that could achieve such a great task. None, but the first ever one, who is, you know, long gone." "Well, go get him, please, there is a great sum of money in it for him. Get him so I can arrange for the sky being violet tomorrow. My friends would love for everything to glow violet during a nice picnic." The servant looked at her, puzzled. He sighed. "I'll go ask the Mystics, and the Oracles, and the Seers, and the Comb-witch, the Herbalists, the Bee-strodamus..." "yes, yes, do what you must, Bee #3," and she feathered and preened herself clean as the servant, unbeknownst to her, flung himself against a wall before making his exit. The next day the Queen sat to breakfast, and she noticed a violet beam stream through her window, and all her glass things were tinted with violet. Bee #3 came in, bloodied and dusted over with dirt, grime and leaves. The Queen did not notice for she thought all worker bees were unkempt. That was just their mode of style, or the fault of their simple minds. "Bee #3, the view, its so wondrous. How can I thank you! Your kind do like Mud Pies, right? Since you are always near the muck. Or would you like a once-in-a-lifetime chance to clean the most precious room in the tower? Seeing those pretty shiny things should fill you with pride to be a servant of the richest, most powerful royal bee family." The Queen gazed through her window again, but after a moment, she buzzed around nervously. "Where are my worker bees?!" "Dead," said Bee #3, very weakly. "To bring back the first ever honey bee, I had to do a blood sacrifice of all the worker bees. That is what the Mystics, Oracles, the Seers, the Comb-witch, the Herbalists, and the Bee-strodamus, told me." The Queen said, in a squeaky voice, "...It, it is beautiful," and fainted right there, and she would go on and on rising up just to faint again.