Too much. Too crazy.

    Bustling noises filled my world as my vision faded out. Alcohol and hundreds of bites of bees took away my ability to feel my body. Guess unscrupulously drinking beer was not an excellent idea. Once you are lying half-conscious, weird things start to happen. With the conviction that a drunk middle-aged man just blessed with tons of bee’s bites can have, I swear that weird noises turned into inhuman voices corralling me. I swear the soft wind had a cold solid voice.

    This collection of nonsense is all that I remember before waking up feeling like a rock had hit my head, then, being pushed through maze corridors, just to have my senses flooded with cloying sweet fragrance, yellow light, and clatter as I enter a different place. I've felt overwhelmed previously, but nothing prepared me for that. It was like going out holding an umbrella during a Tsunami. It was … too much. I am sure it is not normal to feel like a balloon about to explode.

    Gradually my eyes started witnessing things that would send me straight to a psychiatric clinic. I was inside a hive. No kidding, I'm a modest man, never would have enough creativity to come up with such a psychedelic story. Regardless, the insects there seemed to stare at me with anger. I felt like I should start trembling.

    Then, the major bee, in an ethereal voice spoke:

    - I order you to come closer - it was an unyielding command.

    - You have committed serious perjury against our kind, however, the apis court is committed to Nature’s justice. As the mother of creation's desire, I concede you the chance to defend your innocence - She said with superiority. Anger boiled.

    - Who do you think you are? Barry Bee Benson? I watched Bee Movie before. What type of prank is this? Which is the next insanity you are going to claim? Say that I am Jiminy Cricket? I-

    - No. This is me. - I was brutally interrupted by a cricket dressed in a suit, identical to the one in Pinocchio’s movie.

    - Mr. Cricket has graciously offered his services as a gauge for your guilt in the atrocity which decimated hundreds of us, threatening our species survival.

    Too much. Too crazy. I wanted to quit that madness train to which I never booked a ticket. However, I told how I destroyed a swarm of bees using a shotgun to win a bet I made while drunk, and then I ended severely hurt by the bee’s stingers as I tried to obtain some honey. My actions and Mr. Cricket's acumen were against me. At some point, I stopped paying attention. Now, I’m contriving escape plans. I repass the narrative focusing on trying to wake up from this nightmare. Could this be real? How to get out? I do not listen when the queen speaks again, neither the words the crowd shouts. But I see light and I’m getting closer until I’m swallowed.