She saw her in the distance. With a few flaps, she found herself face to face with the most breathtaking sight. Mans flipped her hair, cutely adjusting her glasses. âBzz bzz,â Ambrosia sighed softly. She knew that she was the one.
With all her might, Ambrosia put on the finest show of the six weeks of her life. Seductive flapping, melodic buzzing, topped off with some pole-dancing she had seen Manâs (really sexy) friend do every day.
She ended her routine with a slide onto the table in front of Mans, with an anther clenched between her teeth. Mans didnât even know what to say, that was the most beautiful thing sheâd seen in her life. Ambrosia was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
There were no words spoken, just a magnetic force pulling the two of them together slowly. Mans involuntarily started to lean forward as Ambrosia flapped gently, inching towards her. They got closer and closer whe-
âIS THAT A FUCKING BEE OH MY FUCKING GOD,â came a seductive yell from the distance.
It all happened so fast.
One moment, the lovers were about to unite. The next âŚ
Mans felt her heart drop. For a fraction of a second, she had seen a yellow and black blur but the next, it was gone. Her gaze dropped to the floor and her breath hitched.
Ambrosia was on the floor, limbs splayed. Her wings flapped erratically at first, but slowly got slower. Her stinger was broken and one of her legs were missing.
Mans dropped to her knees, tears rolling down her cheeks and onto the floor. She picked her love up gently, a tear falling directly onto Ambrosia. âBZZ BZZ,â she yelled. Not understanding, Mans began to speak, âMy love, our time together was so short. Too short.â Ambrosia began to buzz and at the beginning, she understood nothing, but as she continued, it slowly started to make sense to her, the buzzes unraveling in her mind.
âBzz most bzz bzz beautiful bz bz bzz love bzz,â she heard the bee whisper, clearly straining herself. âI wish it wasnât this way. I wanted to spend my whole life with you,â Mans said softly, between sobs. âBzz my life span was only gonna last a day more perhaps bzzâ âThose wouldâve been the best couple of days of my life.â
Ambrosia was deeply moved. She felt the life pouring out of her, quicker now. She knew she only had a few more seconds left. She gathered all her energy to say, as she died, âI buzz you, you beeauty. Remembeer me honeyâŚâ
Her five eyes fluttered shut and Mans began to wail, loudly and melodically because sheâs way too fucking talented.
âI buzz you too, so so much. Iâll never forget you I swear on my empty life.â
She was startled by the sound of a seductive voice above her. She looked up to she one of her roommates, Shera. âAre you okay there-â she said, effortlessly fine with every word.
âYou. YOU.â Mans clenched her fists, filled with nothing but fury. She glared at Shera, ready to give her a piece of her mind, but the longer she stared, the less upset she felt. What was she thinking, being angry at such a smexc face. Shera looked at her, confused and really attractive. âYou donât seem okay zappa besite,â she said.
âNow that your seductive face is here, Iâm chill,â Mans said cheerfully. âNow, lets go watch XTale with the others.â
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SĂŹ, fanno ridere, ridere da morire, i bislacchi separatisti veneti che vociavano al telefono di comprare armi dagli albanesi (che poi avrebbero espulso, una volta fondato il loro Stato) e si costruivano nel garage di casa un tanko con un trattore dismesso. Fanno ridere perchĂŠ giĂ di per sè noi Veneti un poâ ridere lo facciamo di nostro, soprattutto con lâaccento che ci ritroviamo, del tuttoâŚ
Dell'ÂŤuso sconsiderato e irresponsabile del vocabolarioÂť
(...) Giusva era uno pronto per la Uno Bianca prima della Uno Bianca.
Qualche anno fa un giudice chiese a Francesca
perchĂŠ lo scelse come compagno di vita.
A questa domanda rispose con una frase da ginnasio nichilista,
lapidaria,
nel senso di lapide:
"Giusva era il ragazzo piĂš sensibile che avessi mai incontrato".
Che razza di tipacci fossero gli altri ragazzi che aveva frequentato
non ci è dato sapere.
Di sicuro Francesca con gli uomini non è stata fortunata,
e la parola "sensibile" resta dubbia e ambivalente
come il coinvolgimento dei NAR per i fatti del 2 agosto 1980.
Francesca Mambro è citata nei ringraziamenti di un disco intitolato:
"Abbiamo pazientato 40 anni, ora basta!"
Sensibili anche loro.
Per evitare di confondere la sensibilitĂ con l'eversione fascista e stragista,
stabiliremo dei limiti.
Definiamo quindi neosensibilismo il nostro modo di essere sensibili.
E tutto si distacca dalle ambiguitĂ di Francesca Mambro
da cui ci dissociamo anche per l'uso sconsiderato e irresponsabile del vocabolario.
La signora Mambro e il camerata Fioravanti sono fuori di galera.
Fa male ammettere che al momento vincono due a zero
