Bee was your average worker-bee. His job was simply to go out, collect pollen and bring it back to the hive to make honey. He visited lots of gardens, each a blaze of rich colours - strawberries, blueberries, roses, Japanese cherry blossom, white dove orchids, tiger-lilies and bitter-sweet crab-apple trees, not to mention the sweet aromas of the purple-rain wisteria bonsai. One day he visited the local pub and got his first taste of golden ale. He staggered back to the hive, only to be ejected by the bouncer-bees, as a drunk bee would only cause anarchy within the hive - and anarchy within the hive is completely unacceptable. A fortnight passed by and nothing else was said. Bee continued bringing back pollen to the hive. Until one day he smelt that familiar smell of golden ale, and yet again he ended up staggering back to the hive. At this point the bouncer bees said, 'We've already told you once,' and they slammed Bee down to the ground, whilst another bouncer-bee gnarled his back legs off. Now let that be a lesson to you.