Queen Drucilla sighs and leans back on her throne. She rubs the weariness out of her eyes as she straightens her proboscis and rolls it back up again. Dalton hurries through the entrance to the royal living quarters. When he looks toward the queen, an expression of concern plays on his face. The twelve court bees are busy playing a numbers game with several dice. They don’t notice that the queen is not feeling well today.
Drucilla: Is our guest here, Dalton? He is due to come now, isn’t he?
Dalton: Yes, he is, your royal Highness! My guard has sent word that he has arrived at the main gate and is being escorted to us as we speak.
Drucilla: Lovely. I hope this won’t take very long. I have a headache.
Before Dalton can answer her, one of his guards sticks her head in the entryway, looking rather stressed. She signals him that their visitor is standing in the hallway. Dalton heads to the other end of the royal living quarters to usher in their expected guest. As he approaches them, a stifled scream penetrates the room. The queen looks up annoyed but makes no further response. A scuffle is heard outside. Something rolls into the royal chambers and leaps to his feet. Dalton walks slowly toward the … the … well, it can only be described as a big brown blob with legs. It is unclear if the thing can see, but the feet walk backwards. Trying to escape Dalton, it backs up into the huddle of court bees who are staring at it with curiosity. Its feet turn around and it lets out a blood-curdling scream. It tries to run out of the chamber, but Daltons is standing in the way. It screams again and bolts into the middle of the room.
Drucilla (loud): Stop screaming!
Not only does the walking blob cease to scream, it seems to have stopped breathing altogether. It stands motionless, as if flash-frozen. His feet point away from the queen.
Drucilla (gently): That’s better. Now try to pull yourself together and come over here to the visitor’s chair. Please to it quietly. My head is ready to split.
Turning itself from one side to the other, the thing slowly makes its way to the chair which has already been placed before her throne. He climbs into it, his feet disappearing under his body. Now he simply looks like a blob. Once he has taken his seat. Drucilla turns to Dalton.
Drucilla (whispers): What in the name of this blessed beehive is that thing?
Dalton (eyes narrowing): You haven’t read the …
Drucilla: Just answer me!
Dalton has never seen the queen in such a state and wonders if he should have a doctor come.
Dalton: It’s a potato, your Majesty.
Drucilla: A potato?
Dalton: Yes, a potato.
Drucilla (whispering harshly). Dalton, what is a potato?!
A low cry drifts out of the thing’s head or what looks like it could be the head.
Dalton: It’s a vegetable that humans like to eat.
Drucilla: Well, this potato seems to think WE’RE going to eat him.
Potato (mumbled): I’m not a potato.
Drucilla (turning toward her guest): What did you say?
Potato: I said I’m not a potato.
Drucilla: You’re NOT a potato.
Potato: NO!
Dalton: That’s no, your Highness.
Potato (calmer): No, your Highness.
Drucilla and Dalton exchange meaningful glances.
Drucilla: What are you then?
Potato: I’m a kid.
Drucilla: A kid?
Potato: Yeah, a kid.
Drucilla (looks to Dalton): What’s a kid?
Potato: I’m a boy!
Drucilla: Well, why didn’t you say that in the first place? But I have never seen a boy who looks like you.
Potato: I am only dressed like a potato.
Drucilla: Why on earth would you dress up like a potato?
Potato: Because I … because I … well, it’s a long story.
Drucilla: At least tell me how you can show up in my beehive dressed like a potato.
Potato: I didn’t want to. Really. It’s just that when I went to take off the suit, it got stuck. I can’t get the head off.
Drucilla: Maybe I can help you with it.
Drucilla leans forward and reaches for the potato’s head. The boy inside starts to scream again.
Drucilla: Silence! What’s wrong with you?
Potato: Sorry, it just came out.
Drucilla: You don’t have to be afraid of me. I only wanted to pull your head off.
Dalton (under his breath): I wish she had phrased another way.
Drucilla (to Dalton): I said ‘pull’, not ‘chop’.
Potato: I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve never seen a bee that’s as big as I am. It’s kind of scary.
Drucilla (laughing): I’m not as big as you are, young man. You’re as small as I am.
Potato: I’m the size of a bee? I wasn’t when I got in that elevator?
Drucilla: That elevator?
Potato: Yeah.
Dalton: Say ‘yes’ to the queen.
Potato: Yes, your Majesty.
Dalton smiles.
Drucilla: Oh, you mean the shrinking machine!
Potato: You shrunk me?
Drucilla: How else could you possibly come into my beehive?
Potato: Are you going to make me bigger again when I leave?
Drucilla (smiling): Of course.
Potato: That’s cool!
Drucilla: Now, if I reach over and tried to get your head off, will you promise not to scream? My aching head is about to explode already.
Potato: I promise.
Drucilla grabs the head of his potato suit and gives it a tug. It doesn’t budge. She tries again, but it’s stuck tight.
Drucilla: Dalton, come and help me!
Dalton and Drucilla stand on either side of the potato and pull hard. It is no use. The head refuses to come off.
Drucilla: Can you breathe alright in there?
Potato: It doesn’t smell so good, but I can breathe.
Drucilla: If you would go get an ax, Dalton, we could …
Dalton: You are not seriously going to chop off his head! … my Queen.
Drucilla: Well, not his real head.
Potato: Excuse me! Could we maybe try this again without an ax?
Dalton: Have no worries! There will be no axes flying around either of your heads.
Dalton thumps the potato on his stubborn head. It sounds like a hollow pumpkin.
Drucilla: Ladies! I need your help.
The court bees assemble around the potato and pull with all their might.
Dora: I think there is a latch here. If I just …
BOOM! Head and bees fly in every direction. The court bees are so stunned they remain seated on the floor. The potato is lying on the floor in the middle of the slowly recovering bees. A boy’s head emerges out of the suit.
Drucilla: After all that excitement, I think now would be a good time to have some tea. I am very curious to try this royal brew.
Dalton sends two of the court bees out to get it. They return with a tray full of steaming mugs. They pass the tray around until everyone has a cup. The dark brown liquid smells sweet.
Potato: When I got the message that the queen was inviting me for tea, I never imagined this. (He sniffs at his mug.) Is there honey in this?
Drucilla: What else would you expect in a beehive?
Potato: Yum!
Drucilla (holding up her cup): To a success beheading!
Everyone takes a sip of tea. Without warning, they all spit it back out, choking and gagging. Only the potato continues to drink calmly.
Drucilla: What’s your name, Potato?
Potato: Ben.
Drucilla: Do you LIKE this tea, Ben?
Ben: Yes, I do.
Drucilla: Does that mean this is NOT the most disgusting stuff you have ever put in your mouth?
Ben: No, your Majesty.
Dalton raises his forefoot to get Ben to speak to the queen with more respect, but he is choking too much to say anything.
Drucilla: Then you’re a better queen than I am.
Drucilla gives him a wink and they smile at each other. Ben is beginning to like this queen.
Drucilla: Do you mind if we cut this interview short for today? I’m not feeling very well.
Ben: I’m sorry to hear that, Your Highness. (He stood up and collected his head.) Do you think I could visit you again sometime? When you are feeling better?
Drucilla: I don’t see why not. We have plenty of tea on hand, and I don’t think anyone else here will drink it. We’ll keep it for you.
Ben: Thank you.
The boy seems to have lost all fear of the bees by now. He bows respectfully to the queen – as respectfully as his potato suit allows – and heads out of the royal living quarters.
As soon as he leaves, Drucilla closes her eyes and drifts into an exhausted sleep.
