Disclaimer:  These fantastic characters don’t belong to me.  They belong to Universal and Mark VII.  I’m just borrowing them for another entertaining tale.


Bee Nice 

By:  Vanessa Sgroi



“Psst—Chet!  Chet, don’t move.  There’s a bee in your hair,” Johnny Gage whispered to the other fireman.  They were both seated at the kitchen table at Station 51, coffee in hand.




“A bee.  A big one, too.”


“Well, get it out!”


Gage reached over, grabbed the newspaper, and quickly rolled it up.


“What are you doing?” Chet whispered.


“I’m gonna smack it.”


“No!  No, you’ll make it mad.”


“Uh oh.  It’s on the move.”


“What!  Where’s it goin’?”  Before Johnny had a chance to answer, Kelly felt the tickle of the bee crawling on his forehead.  He broke out in a nervous sweat and began to fidget.


“Hold still, Chet.  I’m gonna scare it away.”  Gage made a shushing sound and swung the rolled up newspaper a couple of times.  Nothing happened.


“Man, that thing really likes you, Kelly.  It’s not going anywhere!”


“What’s it doing?”


“Nuthin.  It’s just sitting there.”


“C’mon, man, can’t you get it off of me?”


“I tried.  He’s not budging . . . oh, wait!  He’s crawling down your face again.”


“Do something!” the agitated man hissed, as once again he felt that tickly-crawly feeling.


The dark-haired paramedic suddenly snapped his fingers.  “Water!”


“W-water?” Kelly nervously stared at the paramedic.


“Yeah.  I’ll get the hose and squirt it off!”


“Oh, man.  Wouldya hurry . . .” the Irishman felt sweat drip off his chin.


It didn’t take long for Johnny to grab the small hose from out back and drag it into the kitchen.


Roy DeSoto stepped into the room just as his partner was aiming the nozzle.  He stopped and stared at the comical tableau.


“Okay, Chet, the bee will be gone in a second.”  Johnny let loose with the hose, completely soaking the mustached fireman.


Shaking his head, Roy turned on his heel without a word and prepared to leave the room.  Before he took a step, the klaxons sounded.  He rushed for the squad; his partner’s hurried footsteps right behind him.  Roy also heard the distinctly squishy sound of Chet racing for the engine.


Climbing in the squad, he accepted the call slip from Captain Stanley just as Johnny slammed the passenger side door.


As the squad exited the station ahead of the engine, Roy could no longer hold back a chuckle.


“When are you going to tell him?”


All innocence, Johnny replied, “Tell him what?”


“That there was no bee.”


Now Gage allowed his grin to come full force.  “I’m not.”


“So how’d you convince him?”


The younger paramedic clapped his hands together in delight.  “I’ve been doing a little reading.”  As he spoke, he reached for something near his feet.  In triumph, he held up a book.


Roy glanced at the book.  The cover read, The Persuasive Power of Suggestion by I.M. Reel. 



“Just don’t think of using any of that on me, Junior.”


“See, that’s your problem, Roy.  You never trust me!  I’D never do that.”


“Uh huh.”  Glancing in his mirror, DeSoto thought about a miserably wet Chet Kelly back in the big red engine and started laughing.


“What’s so funny?”


“You . . . you finally pulled a good one on the Phantom.”


With a laugh of his own, Johnny readily agreed, “Hey, I did, didn’t I!”


“Just watch out for one thing though.”


“What’s that?”





* * *  The End  * * *





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