The Bee and the Wasp

Once upon a time, a bee and a wasp were discussing love.

"When I find someone to love, I penetrate them over and over until I find the next person I want," boasted the wasp.

"That's terrible," fretted the bee. "How can you do that?"

"Because I can," the wasp boasted. "My stinger is smooth--easy in and easy out. I can plunge it a dozen times in seconds. Oh, yes, my lover knows I've been there." The wasp grinned, feeling triumphant. "What about you?" he asked the bee.

"Maybe it's because I'm not so smooth an operator," the bee answered, "but when I attach to the one I love, I stay."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Because I want to," the bee explained. "The one I penetrate is the one I choose. It's forever."

The wasp was astonished. "That's no way to use your stinger," he sneered. "In and out and in and out, I say."

"Maybe we weren't meant to penetrate everyone we could," the bee added. "Just the one."

"So, tell me," laughed the wasp, "why? Why just one? What would happen if you left the one you penetrated and went looking for someone else? Like me."

"Well, then, I'd die," the bee said. "It's all very eviscerating."

"Yea? So, whose fault is that, really?"

"Mine, of course."

"And?"

"And...that's the way I want it. Once in love, disengagement is amputation. Love is a barbed thing--easy in, but..."

"Must be all the honey," the wasp blurted. "Stay the hell away from me."

And they each flew their separate ways, in love and in life.