Once upon a time, there was a hive of prosperous, industrious honeybees. The hive produced some of the sweetest, gooiest honey you've ever tasted, making them renowned throughout Inkwell Isle. However, that reputation came with a price, as a multitude of thieves tried to pilfer their precious honey.

The queen bee, Rumor Honeybottoms, would have none of that. After all, she was the one who put in all those hours ordering her workers to make the honey. To address the issue, she put her male drones to work as security guards, defending the hive. It worked reasonably well at first, but even they couldn't hold off the thieves forever. No, something more drastic would have to be done. But what?

She considered enlisting the help of other insect colonies, but feared that they would double-cross her and try to take some of the honey for themselves. She also considered putting her workers on security detail, but every hour they spent defending the hive would be one less hour they spent making that precious honey. She even briefly entertained the idea of giving her drones guns, before it occurred to her that they might use those weapons to overthrow her.

Then, one early morning, her answer came in the form of a visitor knocking on her hive's door. She answered it to see a mysterious figure, wearing a grey cloak that obscured everything but their gloved hands.

"What do you want?" she asked. "Our honey is not for sale, so if that's what you're looking for, then scram."

"Quite the contrary, your majesty," said the stranger. "I have something to give to you. Something that will help you defend your hard-earned honey."

The stranger reached under their cloak and produced two items: a golden scepter, and a red book.

"This is a magic wand. You can use it to blast your intruders apart, or transform into almost anything you please. The book explains how to use it."

Rumor took the book from the stranger and started flipping through it. She came across several spells that piqued her interest, including one that allowed the user to spit bullets and one that transformed the user into an airplane.

"Interesting, very interesting," she said, smiling and rubbing her chin.

"To activate the wand, you must hold it in your hand and say the magic words: 'magic wand, come to life, smite my foes and end my strife!'"

The queen grabbed the wand, held it aloft and repeated the phrase:

"Magic wand, come to life, smite my foes and end my strife!"

A moment later, the wand began to vibrate and glow, while bursts of purple light sprung from the tip. Elated, she opened the book again, looking for a spell to try out.

"Now, wait just a moment," said the stranger. "There is something else you must know about the wand. It was forged by the Devil himself, and as such, it comes with a terrible curse."

Rumor furrowed her brow. "A curse, you say?"

The stranger nodded. "If the wand is still active by the time the clock strikes midnight, the Devil will take your soul. You must silence the wand before midnight every night, and it must stay dormant until 6 in the morning."

"Oh, is that all?" she asked, releasing the tension in her face. "I usually go to sleep at 10, anyway. That won't be an issue at all."

"To silence the wand, you must say, 'I pray the lord my soul to keep.'"

"Yes, yes, good to know," Rumor said as she flipped through the spellbook. "Now, where was that airplane spell I saw earlier...?"

The stranger sighed and walked away, leaving the queen to her own devices.

After eating her breakfast, Rumor spent the rest of the morning on the frontlines, defending the honey (a most unusual position for a queen bee to take). Instead of dreading the arrival of thieves, she was now anticipating it, daring anyone to get close to the honey she was entitled to. Sure enough, at around 11 o'clock, they saw a trio of weasels trying to sneak into the hive, each carrying a honey pot on their back.

"Stop!" cried one of the guards. He hovered forward, brandishing his police baton, only to have his path blocked by his enormous queen.

"Stand down, officer," she said. "I shall handle this."

She pointed her wand at the weasels and fired a bolt of purple lightning at their feet. They yelped and made a mad dash towards the honey stash, hoping they could at least pilfer a little before they had to retreat. Before they made it there, however, Rumor shot out another bolt, nailing one of the weasels right in the keister.

"YOWCH!" he cried, grabbing his behind and scurrying out of the hive. His two partners followed him out soon afterwards.

"Bravissimo!" sang Rumor, holding the wand up triumphantly. "What a splendid new weapon I have! Fit for a queen, I must say!"

The rest of the day played out in the same fashion; someone would try to break into the hive, the queen would flex her new magical prowess, and the intruders would make a hasty retreat. She went back to her throne room at 9 o'clock that evening, feeling very satisfied with herself.

She laid the wand on her nightstand, turned out the light and said...

"I pray the lord to keep my soul."

And nothing happened. The wand was glowing just as brightly as ever.

"My soul is for the lord to keep."

Still nothing.

"I pray to give the lord my soul?"

Still nothing.

A feeling of worry began to swell in Rumor's heart, which soon turned to panic as she failed to recall the exact wording of the silencing command. "My soul belongs to the lord! I pray the lord protect my soul! Take my soul, lord, no questions asked!"

Finally, in a fit of desperation, she chucked the wand out the window and collapsed face-first onto her bed.

After a tense, restless night of sleep, she awoke to find, much to her horror, that very same wand resting on her nightstand, along with a note scrawled in red ink:

"I believe you dropped this."