affame_le_geant_mensch_hummel fyn gula like the precise and determined lightning-speed flashes of tungsten swords, the bees of boffden's swarmarmy zipped across the fading light of a tired rynomarian sky, chasing the steady, calm flight pattern of the portuguese rescue squad. part apian, part human, these mensch-liche hummels had heads as you and me, however, black-skinned and bald. over their bee eyes they wore oakley sunglasses. serviceable antennae sprouted from their skulls. over shoulders, arms and chest, they were dressed in heavy cotton, black and yellow striped rugby jerseys with white block letters proclaiming, "BOFFDEN'S SWARMARMY" and a white block number on the back in descending order according to individual merit. bumblebee wings poked out of the jersey and possessed the potential to propel the "hummermen" at speeds surpassing 65 mph. arms were bee-like and strong, but the hands were human and fitted with white gloves similar to what mickey mouse sports. the bottom was apian and featured an extremely sharp stinger that contained a near deadly dose of venom. with minature megafones in one hand, the bees lifted them in mid flight and shouted durgatory curses at the peaceful birds. "o proina nao pode amar!" "o proina ama-se!" they screamed in portuguese, basically announcing their opinion that though proina loved herself, she could not love others. their sensitive ears buffeted by the irritating blasphemy, the rescue squad seemed unaffected by the odious behaviour, able to ignore the unrelenting bees by keeping their zen minds on the task at hand, which of course was to reach the wooden cart as soon as possible. as previously mentioned, but reiterated to enforce its severity, all 2oo of the swarmarmy were equipped with stingers which had the potential to inflict pernicious harm. however, the members of the portuguese rescue squad were trained for terroristic threats and were adequately prepared for all manner of resistance. overtop their vulnerable feathers they wore an inpenetratable polypropelene/gore-tex sheath. ("like a condom?," you ask. sort of, i guess.) since bees are infamous for stinging once and then dying, they were falling from the sky left and right, having lost their asses in vain, for you see, after they swore forth their impudent dogma, they attacked, but left their pointy barbs in the shieldsuits of the birds like king arthur's excalibur. still holding onto the megafones in one hand, they dropped like acorns from an oak tree. in the other hand, every bee held a tiny banner that unfurled, even as they fell. each one proclaimed a different philosophical statement from boffden himself concerning his love affair with frau werzenwozen. like minature jenny holzer art projects they read quickly for the rescue squad and anyone else who happened to catch them en route: "long live rynomari" "seek the marox pass" "this revolution will not be televised" "my solemn birds sleep near the heavens" "a living renaissance" "heal the most broken of parts" "where you are is where i belong" "the journey is about to begin" "stars in the heavens blood on the earth" "maris den cie" "blue sky with clouds" "there's too much to keep to myself" "i am always beginning the world" "in the spaces between you and reality" "soft browne tiger eyes" "this distracted creativity" "meeting each other outside of time" "putting a human face on the bizarre" 020709 what's it to you? who go blather from