The Bees, The Wife, And The Husband

• Reuben White, Grade 4, Runcorn Heights State School -
• Short Story
• 2018

Excellence Award in the 'Horizon of Dreams 2018' competition

One afternoon, Mrs Nasty had a very terrible idea. She decided she was going to put a beehive on Mr Nasty‘s head. She’s a nasty woman, don’t you think? She snuck out into the orchard and searched for the tallest tree. The Nasties were never nice to nature, so the best one she could find still had many holes all over it and it’s bark was peeling off like paint.
“Let’s see how that whiskery old warthog likes this!” she mumbled. Mrs Nasty shoved her bony arms into the tree with the bees. They were striped black and yellow, and were all dancing happily around their hive.
Mrs Nasty dipped her finger in the honey.
“Mmm. Delicious!” she exclaimed.
“Now, bees,” she said, as she was secretly the beekeeper, I would like you to assist me in my awesome plan to put you with your beehive on my horrible husband’s head. Sound fun?”


So the bees followed Mrs Nasty to the door. Mrs Nasty laughed quite loudly. “And now all you have to do is start stinging my husband!” she bargained.
The bees flew over to where Mr Nasty was sleeping. Mrs Nasty sneered, “don’t wake him up just yet!”
“Have fun!” she said, ready to conduct the trick.
But just as she was about to place the hive on Mr Nasty‘s hairy head, she heard some sniffling from Mr Nasty.
Uh-oh! she thought.
So she returned to the room in a hurry. Mrs Nasty started singing a lullaby.

The bees gave her a very confusing look, as if to say, “Are you serious?”
But then something strange happened. The lullaby worked! Mr Nasty went grumpily back to sleep.
Mrs Nasty sighed, “Phew!”


Suddenly, Mr Nasty started waking up again! And this time he was reaching for his head and yawning! Mrs Nasty or the bees had to act fast! Mrs Nasty slapped Mr Nasty‘s hands away from his head.
“What was that for?” Mr Nasty said.
“Don’t worry. I was just pulling off a spider! It’s gone now.”
Mr Nasty was fully awake now. “Oh, phew!” he said.


Then Mrs Nasty laughed.
“Do you want to know why you needed to scratch your head?”
“Why?” Mr Nasty shouted.
“And why it felt like there was something creeping around in it?”
“Why?” Mr Nasty asked, more furious than before.
“Because it was bees!” cried Mrs Nasty, laughing and cackling and squirming with horrible laughter.

Mr Nasty looked shocked. He walked over to the mirror. Then his jaw dropped. He was covered in bites from bees.
“I do love a good joke!” he heard Mrs Nasty laugh from her bed.