The Second Coming
Bees-niss is booming
I took another long drag off of my mega joint and held the acrid smoke in for a few seconds. This new hybrid I had grown in my greenhouse was some dank shit. It was so smooth I didn’t have to worry about coughing like a damn fool either.
Winner winner, chicken dinner!
I adjusted my John Deere hat and leaned back in my chair. It was turning out to be a beautiful day. Fuck, with this weed, even the worst day would’ve been tolerable.
I surveyed my backyard from the shade of the wooden porch. It was lush and green, in need of some TLC. Fuck it, I’ll mow that shit later. Right now, I’m floating on air and my do not mother fucking disturb sign is out.
I watched as a lone bee flew low to the ground, zipping just above the grass like an attack helicopter. Boy, that’s cool as all get out.
The yellow-black bomber flew in a zig-zag pattern toward my location and then suddenly beelined straight toward me. It barely made the elevation of the porch floorboards and climbed a steep trajectory to light on my right shoulder.
I turned my head to look at it, as it slowly flapped its wings and seemingly turned to face me. “To bee or not to bee,” the small insect squeaked.
The words were more like a buzzing vibration than actual vocalization. I think he (it) was trying to be funny, but I was rather amazed that I was understanding a bee in the first place.
Not once in my entire sane life had I ever communicated with an insect. The thought had never even crossed my mind. Surely, I must be going crazy.
So, this is how my life ends. Disappearing down a rabbit hole of mental instability. People often look at things they can’t comprehend and automatically categorize them as crazy.
It doesn’t matter if the object of concern is a person, an event, a thought, or whatever. I immediately came to the conclusion that there must be an entire spectrum of craziness that things resided on.
And yet the bee perched there, looking at me. I sensed that it was looking at me and waiting for an answer. Or a reaction. A sign that I’d heard and understood his short sentence.
I figured he was a male since he had no stinger. That would make him a drone. Wow, I remembered something from high school biology.
He looked at me and waited patiently. Maybe he knew I was freaking out at light speed.
Finally, I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. I closed and opened it a few times, nervously clearing my throat.
Had anyone ever spoken to a bee before? Was I the first emissary of humankind to do so? What if I said the wrong thing and started a war?
After all, bees are of major importance to the environment. I’d been reading a myriad of stories about bees dying out and the global effects of their disappearance.
Dammit man, a bee made a joke for God’s sake. And you’re making a huge deal out of it.
Maybe I’m supposed to help the bees. I might be their savior. Who knows? Say something, stupid. I opened my mouth again and stuttered, “D-d-did you just make a joke?”
The bee buzz laughed. “Yeah, I’m not a dad, so I just have to stick with bad jokes. Bees have a rudimentary sense of humor though, so it’s all good. I kill at parties.”
I took another hit of my spliff, and I must’ve looked perplexed as fuck. The little booger buzz chuckled. His whole body shook for a second.
“I gather you’ve never had a conversation with a bee before,” he said. “I guess introductions are in order. I know who you are, Musty Backhairisonford. I am the Bee Jesus, but you can just refer to me as Jesus Christ or Jesus. I prefer plain Jesus to be honest with you.”
“Well, you can call me Musty. My last name is so much gobbledygook, but you can’t pick your parents or your name. I don’t have to tell you that. Are you the real Jesus? If you are, then why do you appear as a bee? I have so many questions.”
“Yes, Musty, my son. I am the real Jesus. I am the great I am. Since my death and resurrection, I have been rotating through the different lifeforms I created. My message is the same with all of them, but it has to be tailored specifically to their level of consciousness and intellect. Did you think that lower creatures didn’t deserve a savior as well?”
“I don’t know Jesus. I’ve never contemplated things of that nature before. Are you visiting me because I’m high right now? I’ve been high plenty of times before and you never showed up then.”
“Musty, I’ve come to see you because you’ve done a solid in creating this new strain of high-powered marijuana and I’m impressed. In keeping with the heavenly sense of euphoria it elicits, I think you should name it appropriately.”
“Right on, my buzzing Jesus bee buddy. I’ve got it, man. The Second Coming! Smoke this shit and you’ll meet Jesus face to face. I’m gonna make a fuckton of money off of this shit! You don’t know how happy I am right now.”
“Musty, you make a Father proud. And to reward you, I want to help you with something that’s been troubling you your entire life. You’ve prayed about it numerous times, you’ve used countless creams and sprays, and you’ve even consumed different pills all to no effect.”
“Jesus, you’re gonna cure my male pattern baldness? I won’t have to shave my head no more?”
“No, Musty. I know deep in your heart, you’ve always wanted a larger penis. That way, you won’t have to wear the penis extender ever again. Even though in reality it’s a perfectly average length, I will grant your wish to have it grow two or three sizes bigger.”
“Oh, my God! I mean, oh my Jesus! Well, you are one and the same right? That would be so fucking awesome of you, little bee-dude Jesus!”
“Great talk, my son! I must be going now Musty. My hive is having a bee-ble study, and I must teach them The Way. Soon, your prayers will be answered.”
I nodded at the bee on my shoulder, and he curtsied in return. He jumped off my shoulder and dive-bombed the floor, pulling up at the last second to zip into the backyard. I watched as he disappeared toward my beehives.
I took a puff and held the smoke deep in my lungs. I was elated that I’d impressed the Son of Man with my new plant. And the name was a winner too.
The Second Coming!
I loved it. I couldn’t wait to have a larger love sausage as well. My whole life was culminating in this singular fabulous weed achievement.
My green thumb was finally paying off. I’d always been told to do what I love, and I loved to smoke weed. Might as well grow that shit too. So, I did and now look at me.
I was on top of the world.
And I’d been visited by Jesus himself. Well, as a bee. But still.
What a day!
The next day I awoke and went to drain the lizard. While it was swollen in a rather turgid pee-hard, it was the same penis I’d always possessed.
Hey, where is my larger, 2x, or 3x bigger piece of equipment? Did my Bee Jesus lie to me? I pulled some cut-offs over my crusty boxers and headed to the backyard.
No one fucks over Musty, even if I didn’t smell garden-fresh.
I made my way through the knee-high grass and weeds, fighting through the brambles to reach the beehives. They were buzzing with bees crawling everywhere.
Hell, it looked like a veritable bee revival. I’d never seen so many bees there before. Maybe they were all coming to see the Bee Jesus.
I lit up the morning joint I had tucked behind my ear and took a puff. I was hopping mad and wanted my just rewards. Jesus had promised me a bigger dick and I was here to claim it.
I walked over to the nearest hive and blew a cloud of smoke over it. The bees started acting drunk and wobbling all over the place. I saw several of them fall from the air onto the ground.
I pulled my penis out and waved it at them. “Jesus,” I shouted, waving my arms and my dick around. “You promised to fulfill my prayers and grant me a larger hobby horse! Where the hell are you, Bee Jesus?”
The bees continued to buzz, and the noise grew louder and louder.
“Jesus, dammit! Where the fuck are you?” I hit the side of the hive with my hand. The bees reacted in concert, and suddenly my penis was covered in them.
I heard a great buzzing voice, like a thousand bees in unison, “ask and ye shall receive.” Simultaneously, the bees began to sting my Johnson and it felt like it had been set on fire.
“Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ!” I called and nothing came but the pain.
I turned and ran with my pants around my ankles, never stopping to pull them up. I ran so fast they came right off, and I kept running, away from the bees, with my growing cock swinging in the breeze.
I’m sitting on my back porch, smoking a bowl, with an ice pack between my legs. My penis is indeed 2 to 3 times larger. It’s throbbing like a son of a bitch. Right now, I’m hoping it doesn’t stay this way.
I would like the pain to subside at least. After all that I’ve been through, it would be nice if the size would stay. That little bee fucker lied to me though. He might’ve even been the devil.
Little buzzing son of a bitch.
At least The Second Coming is assisting with my pain. I can feel it dissipating somewhat. The ice pack helps, but I’m not a big fan of the cold.
I see a lone bee come zipping along the top of the grass. Son of a bitch! Is he coming back?
Sure enough, the bee comes up over the porch railing and lands on my right shoulder. I turn and give him a glare.
“What the fuck? Was this your plan all along? I believed you, you damn Bee Jesus!”
He looked at me and said, “Oh, ye of little faith, I knew what would transpire. Mankind has always done those things in their own best interest. You are no different. You got what you asked for, just not in the manner you thought you’d receive it.”
I brought my hand up and swatted him hard. He lay there on my shoulder, slowly dying.
He gasped, “This is the way the story always ends. The Messiah comes with the message and is killed for his effort. I will rise again, to be killed on another day. This will repeat eternally until the lesson has finally been learned.”
He drew his last breath, and I flicked him from my shoulder with one thick finger. I watched his body fly into the grass one last time and I smiled.
Ain’t no damn bee gonna be the boss of me. Besides, I’ve got The Second Coming. That’s all I need.
This story was inspired by Steve Vernon and his bee story which you can read here.