The birds and
My friend Mack and I used to work at a dot-com disaster in Hollywood. Sometimes we’d eat at a restaurant on Franklin Avenue we liked. It was a chicken restaurant with a Hitchcock theme called “Birds”. The food was good, the joke was better, and there was lots of cool Hitchcock decor, especially from the eponymous film. It may well still be there; I don’t go to Hollywood much.
One day Mack was sitting inside enjoying a late lunch. Outside on the patio was a gaggle of annoying yuppies sipping their chardonnay, comparing SUVs, chittering, chattering, and waving their beautiful hair. As he watched them, suddenly their happy polished smiles gave away to trepidation, anxiety, worry, and finally screaming panic. They leaped out of their chairs and hopped about, arms and legs jerking wildly like marionettes or seizure victims. Finally they fled down Franklin westward, shrieking and cavorting as if possessed by demons.
It was then that the sun caught the scene right and he saw that they were being pursued by a huge swarm of angry bees.