Deep in the lush, sun-lit jungle, where vines dangled like playful ribbons and parrots painted the air with bright songs, lived the one and only Monkey Baby Bon Bon. Bon Bon was tiny, furry, and bursting with more curiosity than any monkey twice his size. Every morning, he leapt from his cozy leaf bed with one thought: What fun can I find today?
On this particular morning, Bon Bon woke up feeling extra adventurous. The jungle felt different—buzzing, humming, alive with secrets waiting to be discovered. With a soft “Ooo-ooo!” he scampered off through the bushes, eager to explore.
As he bounded along, Bon Bon spotted something golden glimmering high up in an old mango tree. His eyes widened. “Treasure?” he whispered to himself. There, hanging from a thick branch, was a perfectly round, glowing object. It looked magical. It looked delicious. It looked… important.
Without a second thought, Bon Bon hopped from branch to branch until he was right beside it. The shimmering ball smelled sweet, almost like the wildflower nectar he loved. He reached out one tiny hand and poked it.
PLOP!
A blob of sticky golden goo landed right on his nose. Bon Bon giggled, licking it away. “Mmm! Sweet!” Then he poked the ball again. And again. Soon he was tapping it like a drum, sending drops of honey flying into the air.
But inside the beehive—because of course it was a beehive—the bees were not amused.
The hive trembled.
A deep buzzing rose like a warning.
Bon Bon froze.
Then—ZOOM!
A dozen bees burst out of the hive, swirling around him in tiny tornadoes of outrage.
“Uh-oh,” Bon Bon squeaked.
He tried smiling at them. The bees did not smile back.
He tried waving at them. The bees buzzed louder.
So Bon Bon did the only thing a sensible baby monkey could do—run for his furry little life.
He zipped down the tree, scampered over rocks, leapt across a stream, and dashed through ferns taller than he was. The bees followed in a determined cloud of golden fury.
“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t know!” he called behind him, but the bees kept chasing, zooming closer and closer.
Finally, Bon Bon spotted his best friend, Tika the tortoise, resting beside a fallen log.
“Tika! Hide me!” Bon Bon squealed.
With the calm wisdom of someone who had seen many monkey mishaps, Tika lifted her shell slightly and nodded inside. Bon Bon dove underneath it just as the bees approached.
The bees swarmed around Tika. They sniffed. They circled. They hummed suspiciously.
But Tika didn’t move a single muscle.
Eventually, the bees gave up, drifting away one by one until the jungle fell quiet again.
Bon Bon crawled out, covered in dust but very much alive. “Thank you, Tika,” he said, hugging her shell.
Tika gave a slow smile. “Little Bon Bon,” she said gently, “not all shiny things are meant to be touched.”
Bon Bon nodded, sticky fur still smelling like honey. “I learned that today.”
And from that day on, whenever he saw something humming, buzzing, or glowing too sweetly, Monkey Baby Bon Bon always paused—and thought twice before poking it.Attach
