Story three Buzz the Lazy Bee

Candice McCarty

Professor Morgan Peters

English 200-08

December 15, 2011

One day there was a worker bee named Buzz and he was the laziest bee in the hive. All day he would sit around and sleep while all the other worker bees went out to gather nectar to make the honey. Every bee, as accustomed to the beehive law had to gather 50 grams of nectar by the end of the season before winter came. Buzz always said, “I can get that in a week, no big deal” and always put off his duty until another day.

Now all the other bees had watched year after year, as Buzz never filled his quota and this year they warned him that if he didn’t make it, they were going to demote him from flying bee and make him a hive bee where he would make the honey all day long and stay stuck inside the hive. Buzz was afraid of this, but he never made the effort to make sure he met his quota.

One day Burt, his friend came to him, “Buzz, winter’s almost here, the flowers are dying more and more every day, you better start collecting.” Buzz simply brushed it off and said, “I can’t get it in a week, no big deal.” Well the weeks started coming, and going, and Buzz did nothing but sleep them away. Finally early one morning he arose to a fierce cold draft sweeping through the hive, and then he knew Burt was right and headed off to get his nectar.

The hours grew longer, and the night was approaching, and Buzz knew he was in trouble when he couldn’t find one live flower. “Oh no, what am I going to do, this is going to take months to get 50 grams of nectar at this rate!” And for the next four weeks of fall, the trees started shedding their leaves, and snow started covering the grass, and Buzz flew on with frozen wings, looking for a live flower.

Then the time had come for the scores to be tallied, and the numbers to be crunched. When his name was called Mr. Buzzington called him to the front. “Buzz, I must say your number was most disappointing this year, you barely managed to make 10 grams.” “But let me explain,” Buzz pleaded, “there were no more flowers left and I traveled miles and miles.” “Well then,” Mr. Buzzington said, “you shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, turn in your flying hat and report to the honeyroom at 8:00 a.m. sharp tomorrow morning.”

            From that day on, Buzz worked as a hive bee, and never got to fly outside or take naps, again. He learned that procrastination leads to nothing but despair.