The Brain took a step back as the swarm of bees began muscling their way through the door, not that either of the two goons were making much of an attempt to stop them. Their robotic maid still held Maracun hostage and Boss Hog wouldn't have had much luck against a horde of bees. They were outsiders, self-avowed drifters, after all, who clearly didn't appreciate the importance of the parties in Ofromia. The Brain was the sort of person who attached considerable significance to the value of information [i]and[/i] the value of his own skin.

 "[color=7bcdc8]Sorry, Maracun, but we're not fighting to preserve yer honour today,[/color]" the Brain finally stood up straight and, just before patting his hog-like companion on the shoulder, he paused and thought better of it, "[color=7bcdc8]come on, Hogger, you can be the one to tell the boss that he's got [i]nothing[/i] to worry about.[/color]"

 It took a while for the suggestion to leave Maracun to the tender mercies of the crew to penetrate the thick skin, thick skull and thick brain of Hogger. A more intelligent creature would listen with their ears, which would have been considerably easier. Hogger was a very literal minded and simple creature, and had done things '[i]the hard way[/i]' so often that it'd become the philosophy that guided his life. Hogger snorted and walked away, accompanying the Brain, into the crowds of people that drifted through the neon streets of Ofromia.

 Maracun expressed his displeasure at being left behind with a rude gesture towards the back of Hogger and Brain. Hip Kallo gurgled on the floor in front of them. The banner of the International Space Friends fluttered proudly in the breeze caused by the flow of air through the open door.

[hr]

 Armed with tiny little GloBrellas, the bees organised themselves into three teams, based on the colourful glow. The team with pink GloBrellas insisted that they were now to be referred to as [i]Team A[/i], and were made up of tough, no-nonsense bees that didn't play by the rules, but they got the job done. The blue team opted to take the rather more prestigious name of [i]Team B[/i], and declared that they were young, up-and-coming heroes with hearts of gold and something to prove to the world. The final team, quite clearly a little unhappy about not being Team B, explained that they would be [i]The B Team[/i], and that they were a team of mercenaries who were framed for a crime they didn't commit, and have since escaped to clear their name and do good deeds. None of these elaborate backstories were true, but the bees were impressionable when it came to SpaceTV, and far from the guiding hand of the Will, they were free to indulge in their elaborate fantasies and their love of dividing themselves into arbitrary groups.

 The leader of each of the three teams looked expectantly towards Fiddlesticks.

 "[color=fff200]Team A reporting in. Twenty eight years on the force,[/color]" the bee was putting on a gruff voice, even though it had to speak up to be heard, "[color=fff200]and this is how they repay me? You gotta be kidding me. I'm turning in my badge and my gun after this assignment.[/color]"

 "[color=6ecff6]Team B, here to save the day,[/color]" this bee struck a pose, holding the GloBrella like a sword, "[color=6ecff6]we can do it! [I]Yeah![/i][/color]"

 "[color=f49ac2]You know what they say,[/color]" the third bee wore a little eye-patch, and somebody had gone to draw stubble around his chin, which grew more smudged as he stroked it in thought, "[color=f49ac2]if you've got a problem, and if nobody else can help you, and if you can find us, well, we're The B Team.[/color]"