Gromit was right to go back into the dining room because Major Crum was still struggling to hit the giant bees with the porridge gun through the window.
"It's good that you're here, Private Gromit," Crum said. "I need help."
"What do you need me to do, Major Crum?" Gromit asked. "To refill the porridge gun?"
"No, Private," Crum said. "I need you to hold me steady, so I can have more of a chance of hitting the bees. And right now, Private."
So Gromit did what he was ordered to do. He held Crum steady while the major continued to fire porridge at the giant bees.
"Yeah!" Crum cheered, as he was making much better progress at hitting the bees. "Take that, you giant, honey-making, flower-pollenating bastards!"
Soon all the bees had been hit, went unconscious and crash-landed on the front garden.
"Well done, Private Gromit!" Crum felt very proud about what he and Gromit had just achieved. "We did it!"
"Who do you feel like now, Major?" Gromit asked. "Do you feel like Luke Skywalker and Han Solo when they defeated the Tie Fighters with the Millennium Falcon's quad laser guns in A New Hope?"
"No, actually," Crum said. "I feel like Cuba Gooding Jr.'s character during his scenes in the very best historically accurate World War Two movie ever, Pearl Harbour by Hollywood's best director ever Michael Bay. Even better than Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, Christopher Nolan, Denis Villeneuve and Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer together on a film set." Then the major fell asleep on the porridge gun. Even though he was asleep, he kept mumbling in his sleep how Michael Bay was the best director of all time.
Gromit looked through the dining room window to check if there were any bees left. He couldn't see any, but he could see Miss Flitt stuck on a branch hanging over his front garden on a tree from her garden. He went out to rescue her while leaving Crum to continue praising Michael Bay in his sleep.
Gromit approached Miss Flitt.
"Listen… to… me… nice… little… doggy," Miss Flitt said. "I'm… stuck… on… this… tree… branch. Do… you… understand?"
Gromit always hated it when Miss Flitt talked to him like that, just because he was a dog and she didn't think he could understand human conversation. "Yes, Miss Flitt. I don't have special needs."
"Good. I… need… you… to… go… and… get… your… master… to… save… me. Do… you… understand… nice… little… doggy?"
"Yes, Miss Flitt," said Gromit, trying his very hardest to keep his cool. "I understand you, loud and clear."
"Good," Miss Flitt said. "Now… go… and… be… a… good… doggy… and… get… your… master… to… save… me. And… please… be… as… quick… as… you…. can."
"I will, Miss Flitt." Then Gromit made his way back to the house. "Much quicker than you can finish a sentence," he muttered under his breath. "She probably hangs out with sloths, especially the sloths from Zootopia."
A clip of Miss Flitt and all the sloths from Zootopia together was about to play when Gromit appeared in it.
"No! Don't roll the clip!" he snapped. "It'll take forever and we'll never be able to get back to the story if we do."
Gromit intended to go to the front door to warn Wallace about Miss Flitt, but he heard some music coming from behind the side gate. He opened it and heard the music was coming from the basement. He looked through the hatch doors and saw the whole basement was taken over by more giant bees and they were dancing to Voulez-Vous by ABBA. Even the beehive grew just like the bees did.
Gromit knew the only way he could sort these bees out was by making them go unconscious. Then he saw a record player at the top of the beehive where the ABBA music was being played. If he could only get to the top of the beehive, he could change the record and put on sleepy music to make the bees fall asleep, but he couldn't go down to the basement because he would only get stung to death if he did. Then he saw the Sniffer 3000 by the basement steps. He could get into it and make it take him to the top of the beehive. Now all he had to do was find some beer and pour it on the top of the beehive so the Sniffer 3000 would follow the beer and take him to it.
As Gromit tried to work it, he slipped on something that made him fall down. He looked around to see what he tripped on, but he couldn't find it. Then he heard a smash from the basement. He looked down to see what smashed and what he slipped on – a beer bottle that was now broken was on top of the beehive surrounded by spilled beer.
Gromit was impressed with his accident. "Wow! I really surprise myself a lot, like how Johnny English saves the world with his accidents."
On his latest mission, Johnny English was running in London, chasing some terrorists. He managed to catch up to them in alleyway and when they came to a dead end.
"Stop!" English yelled, aiming his gun at the terrorists. "I got you exactly where I want you to be. Now, come quietly and –" He stopped talking because the gun he had collapsed into pieces.
The terrorists made a run passed English as he was unarmed, but he still wouldn't move. They tried to punch him, but when they did, they went flying back, hit the brick wall behind them and went unconscious.
Proud of what he did, English opened his jacket and looked at the balloons under it.
"This balloon vest works very well," he said happily. "I strongly believe that this could be useful in the future for MI6 and also –" He stopped talking when he saw he had hit the 'more air' button and all the balloons got bigger. In fact, they got so big that it made him leave the ground and float in the air.
"Help!" he cried. "HELP!"
Gromit went into the kitchen and tried to catch Wallace's attention, but he was still dealing with his angry neighbours. Then Gromit had an idea. He grabbed a piece of paper, wrote a message saying, 'Miss Flitt Needs Help In The Front Garden' and he even drew a picture of Miss Flitt stuck on the tree branch if Wallace couldn't understand even the simple words.
Then Gromit headed down to the basement and he approached the Sniffer 3000 without letting the bees know he was there.
"Hey, Sniffer 3000," he said, as he got in the machine and closed the hatch doors above him. "Beer on top of the beehive, if you're interested."
"Oh, absolutely." Then the Sniffer 3000 made its way to the beehive. The giant bees spotted the machine and started to attack it. Being metal, it didn't feel any stings from the bee tails. It felt the bee tails, but they didn't bother it. In fact, it liked them… a lot.
"Ohh," it sighed happily, as the bees continued to attack it with their bee tails. "That feels so good. It's like getting a massage."
The bees didn't stop attacking the Sniffer 3000 until it went inside the beehive. Then it continued to make its way to the very top of the beehive.
"Thanks, mate," Gromit said to the machine as he got out of him. Then he took the ABBA record off the record player and was about to put a record that played sleepy music on it.
"Not so fast!"
Gromit looked up to see one of the giant bees, the one called Quagmire, charging for him.
"You ain't gonna put us to sleep, mate," the Quagmire bee said.
"Good luck trying to stop me, pal," Gromit said, as he put the sleepy music record on the recorder and started to play it. He looked at the Quagmire bee who still came for him, but he stopped, closed his eyes and started to fall down.
"Giddity…" the Quagmire bee said sleepily as he fell to the ground.
Gromit was very pleased to see all the other bees going to sleep and falling to the ground, thanks to the sleepy music. He started to nod off himself and then he realized that the sleepy music was getting to him and he started to make his way out of the basement. "I'd better get out of here before the sleepy music gets to me like how the Joker's laughing gas gets to the people of Gotham."
One day, the Bank of Gotham was being robbed by the Joker and his men.
The Joker approached the tied up hostages of the bank. "While my men are busy robbing the bank and you're waiting for Batty Boy to rescue you, how about I tell you all a very funny joke? What weapon hurts you the most? A sword. A sore-d."
No one from the hostages laughed. Then the Joker released some gas onto them. Then the people started to laugh. They laughed loudly and out of control.
"Now, you're getting it," the Joker said evilly. "Hilarious, isn't it?"