King Bee

King BeeIn The Mail that morning, there were two solicitations for life insurance, a coupon from the local car wash promising a"100 Percent Brushless Wash," four bills, three, advertising fliers and a death threat from his ex-son, Anthony. Anthony had used green ink, the cyclonic scrawl of his longhand lifting off into the loops, lassos and curlicues of heavy weather aloft, and his message was the same as usual: I eat the royal jelly. I sting and you die. Bzzzzzzzzb. Pat, too, the bitc...