Since you ask, it's a fine day here at Batshit Crazy Headline Aficionado HQ. A damn fine day.
Around 7 AM this morning, two trucks collided on Interstate 10 near Palm Springs, California. Now, this initially sounds tragic, and it would be, except for the fact that one driver was entirely unhurt and the other suffered only minor injuries, despite the fact that at least one of the trucks ignited in a massive fireball. Keep this in mind going forward.
Their respective cargo, however, was not as fortunate. See, one truck was carrying frozen chicken, which seems pretty normal. The other truck, however, was carrying bees. I honestly did not know that was a thing regularly transported through commercial trucking lanes, so The More You Know.
Now, remember that fireball I mentioned? That was the frozen chicken truck. Ultimately, this resulted in...well, I'm going to let the AP tell it here, because I need a moment:
The driver hauling the bees was not hurt, although CHP officers on the scene reported bees buzzing everywhere.
Photos, meanwhile, showed chunks of blackened, highway-roasted chicken.
If you can picture in your head a highway covered in roast chicken pieces presided over by an air force of angry bees and then tell me you're not at least smiling, you are a goddamned liar. Look, I'll be honest: I'm losing it over this. I don't think I can keep it together right now.
OK. OK, I'm good. I can talk about this without making strangled cries of joy at the absurdity of life's rich pageant. I can do this. It shouldn't be too difficult to —
A beekeeper was summoned and the cleanup was expected to last several hours.
NOPE. NO, I CANNOT.
Look, I realize that when you consider the logistics of the situation, summoning a beekeeper makes absolute sense. That's the responsible thing to do, and authorities were entirely in the right to do so. It's perfectly logical.
But picture for a second being the beekeeper that got that call, because that goes one of two ways: either they reacted with horrified panic, a humble beekeeper overwhelmed by a situation spiraling far beyond their control, or (in the scenario that I choose to believe) they realized their moment of glory had arrived, had a "gearing up" montage set to a soundtrack of their own personal bee-themed hard rock cover band (I'm thinking either "The Bees Are Back in Town" or "The Number of the Bee" for a track here), and uttered a glib one-liner like "Bee afraid. Bee very afraid" while donning sunglasses.
I just...I want to live in a world where that's true. Dream with me, friends. Dream with me.
Image via Charles Brutlag/Shutterstock.