Agreeing to take the famed Bee Camaro to lunch last week was a good idea. My friend and ace DJ Chuck would drive. When he opened the driver's side car door he said, "That's ironic...wasps in the Bee Camaro. They gotta be 3-pounders." Then, gently closing the door he walked briskly away muttering, "Nope, nope, nope, nope." We haven't seen him in days. I hope Chuck is alright. He hates wasps.

He's probably onto something. I can't think of a lot of positives about a pack of wasps.

Perhaps inspired by the Amy Stockberger airplane banner to "Find a new home today!" the 4-pound wasps built their nest in the driver's side door hinge. This was a job not for a mere mortal such as myself. This was a job for Jon, our engineer.

I found Jon in the com-room and told him there was a pack of 5-pound wasps that found refuge in the Bee Camaro. He stood up, walked over to the emergency panel on the wall, and with a retina scan and a successful fingerprint verification, the panel opened to reveal a can of wasp killer. He strode calmly to the Camaro as only a super-hero can do. He opened the car door and came face-to-stinger with these 6-pound winged-demons.

The above pic was the last-known photo to show the wasps alive. They fell to the ground in a thunderous black and yellow heap.

Then I had a thought: What if another pack of wasps built a nest in the passenger side door? I opened it and found that this 7-pound spawn of the devil built a twin home! We got those, too. It's okay now, Chuck. You can come back. You can even drive to lunch, buddy. Chuck?

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