Then the next day, Dr. Bees unveils a statue of him bridal-carrying a bee-person.
Boss: Wha-?! This isn't even a comic book anymore!
Each time Dr. Bees turns in a revision, the Boss's cigar got progressively smaller. By the time the latter accepted a cover (which involves the woman stabbing the bee), he was holding a tiny, smoldering stump.
"My taxidermied sea cow stuffed with bees should take care of that!"
Dr. Bees gleefully accepts the Comforter's offer the only way he could:
Dr. Bees: My old-fashioned fotoplayer full of BEES oughtta confirm that! (the bees fly out of said fotoplayer) Comforter: OH GOD! Dr. Bees: As will this illuminated manuscript, BRIMMING WITH BEES! (the comforter runs and screams in pain) As will these Russian doll bees, housing smaller and smaller bees! Comforter: (still running and gathering painful swellings) NO! RUSSIAN BEES! ARGH! Dr. Bees: As will this GoBots Command Center Playset just RAMMED WITH BEES! (Comforter screams in pain) Omnipotron: As will my uhh... regular box containing, ummm... one bee! (Comforter collapses)