A socialite of butterflies. Fluttering circle to monophyletic circle, adjusting to its banter, Cosmo in hand. Listening intently, then lightly rationalizing crashing investment markets, France's latest immigration crisis, melting polar ice caps, and the phenomenon of child soldiers in West Africa. Equally aware and informed amid a species paralleled in intellect on scenarios of past and present death, disease, famine and drought. Buzzing bees. Asking what of solutions. Superficially concerned. Mildly contemplating how to weather the intensity of multiple storms. Swarming insects. Conversations alter. Queen Bea dislikes the intense statements, the disheartening tone. Raising her hind wings, protruding proboscis, sucking dry the essential nectar and pollen as its energy source. Pollinating with bland subject matter of football, Sunday morning pass times , Friday night poker and trips to the Cape. Carrying an electrostatic charge, adhering poisonous pollen from its scopa and ventral abdomen to unsuspecting victims. A vulture bee transporting sticky honey, finally fulfilling her un-kept pleasure principle. Containers of shallow conversation rendering a stingless subgroup immobile and mesmerized by her skill. Subjected to trifling topic matter, useless in its content relative to the subaqueous controversies discussed earlier. Few fight off the sealed nature of the circle, rendered incapable to foster individual thought, to introduce paramount subject matter. An efficient pollinator among solitary and primitively social offspring, her buzzing drowns out the fighting chatter. Convergent evolution transforms the butterfly once centre-stage of socialites. Pinned down, indicative of a plesiomorphic condition, by the tools employed by the swarming social circle.
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