“I won’t date Charlie because he stalked me and I’m a lesbian!” The waitress shouted at Dee. She still has no name.
Dee snorted, unaware that that’s how you call for bees. “Why are you obsessed with Dennis then?” She asks.
“So I could get to you.” The waitress responds, placing her hand on Dee’s arm. Suddenly a bee flew by, landing on the waitress. She didn’t move. She smiled. Her hand turned into a swarm of bees. Dee screamed. The waitress was just a swarm of bees the whole time. Dee was actually a flower. This is a metaphor. Save the bees.