S. O. B.

There was a crowd of bees flying around. These bees were a bit different as they were powered by gasoline.

As the swarm along, periodically a bee or two would start to sputter; it would fly down to a gas station, drink up the gas spilled in fueling a car, and then fly up and rejoin the crowd.

One bee began to sputter a little, but flew right by an open gas station. As he passed the second station, he coughing badly, but still he flew on. Finally, as he was on his last fumes, he dove down to a station and gassed up.

When he rejoined the crowd, his bee buddy said: “Look, you passed right by an open station when you started to get low. You passed another station when you were perilously low. And finally, you ran out of gas just in time to glide into that last station. Are you crazy?”

He replied, “Well, it’s like this. The first station was a Gulf station. I really don’t like Gulf at all. The second station was a Texaco station. That’s even worse.

But the third station was an Esso station. Let me tell you, Esso is my brand of gasoline. It’s really true. There’s an Esso Bee in every crowd!”