Dreaming of Doppler

So my employer had a "Purple Prose" contest. It's essentially a contest where people submit the opening paragraph of the worst possible story they can think of. I submitted an entry, so I thought I would post it here. Enjoy!

Dreaming of Doppler
How a simple worker bee found her true calling and revolutionized the world.
By Adam Buckingham

Johanna was a small bee. Actually, she wasn’t really a small bee. In terms of bees, she was probably closer to average. Being a worker bee, she was about 100 mg, and slightly more than a quarter of an inch long. This is average for a worker bee of the subspecies Apis mellifera mellifera of the species Apis mellifera, known commonly as the Western or European honeybee. She was a German honeybee specifically, first, because that was the common name of her subspecies (Apis mellifera mellifera), and second, because she lives in Chemnitz, Saxony, Germany, formerly known as Karl-Marx-Stadt. Of course, Johanna doesn’t remember when the town was known as Karl-Marx-Stadt, because, as a worker bee of the species Apis mellifera, she will only live for a few months. So being the year 2008, she could not have been alive during the period of 1953 through 1990, during which time the city of Chemnitz was known as Karl-Marx-Stadt. Johanna was about 43 days old, that is, it had been 43 days since she left her larva stage, when she realized that being a worker bee is not her true passion. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy flying around from flower to flower, collecting nectar. No, she did enjoy that. The nectar was sweet, and the hours were good, but she always dreaded re-entering the hive. The hive was dark, and crowded, with a population of 73,163 bees at last counting, and oh, how she loved the outside. When she was outside, in the sun, wind, even rain, she was happiest. One day, as she was flying fruitlessly into a window screen of a house, repeatedly buzzing into the window over and over, she saw a box inside the house, with pictures of people on it. There was a man on the picture, in front of a map of Europe. He was pointing at pictures of the sun, clouds, rain, lightning, and curly lines, which, obviously, represented wind. At this point, it’s important to note that the German honeybee (which is the common name of the Apis mellifera mellifera subspecies of Apis mellifera to which Johanna belonged) is imbued with an uncanny intelligence, not often seen in other species of insects, but quite common in subspecies of Apis mellifera. Johanna learned to read at a very young age of 4 (days), and has since taken a great interest in reading everything she can. She reads newspapers in trash cans. She reads the sides of condiment bottles and soda cans, and once even flew inside a soda can to see if there is more great reading inside, only to be disappointed. So it comes as no surprise when she was able to see that the man on the picture was named Hans Schleiss, and he was a Meteorologe, which is the German word for Meteorologist. Johanna had found her calling. Oh, to be a meteorologist would be heaven to her. No more carrying nectar to the dreaded hive. No more giving birth to worthless drones who have no father, but only serve to swarm around the selfish queen, keeping her warm, fertilizing her eggs. And what for? To create more workers to gather nectar and make honey. Johanna grew bitter quickly. By the time her 50th birthminute came around, she vowed never to return to the hive, and hateful queen, and she would venture into the city to become a meteorologist. This is her story.