Oi, Tha Stingy Sugar Withholdin' Scrooge! Aye tha! Don't look at me like that.

Tha knows full well thi bees are starvin' and tha's been puttin' 'em off wi' nowt but a thimbleful of syrup and a pep talk. "Pull yersens together, lasses," tha says. They're bees, not a rugby team. They need grub.

Enter this absolute unit of a feeder — 4 litres of square-sided, rapid-feeding, sugar-dispensin' brilliance. Four litres! That's roughly t'same amount of tea thi nan gets through in a week, and she's 93 and runs on pure Yorkshire Gold and spite.

It's square, which means it sits flush on top of t'brood box like it was born there, instead of wobblin' about like Uncle Keith after six pints at t'cricket club. No gaps, no drafts, no rogue wasps sneakin' in for a cheeky sip. It's tighter than a duck's backside, and that's watertight, in case tha didn't know.

Now, t'"rapid" part isn't just fancy talk to make tha part wi' thi brass. This thing's got a proper system inside so thi bees can pile in and drink their fill without doin' a backflip into t'syrup and perishin' like tiny sugary Titanic passengers. They walk on, they sup, they waddle off happy. No casualties, no drama, no tiny bee funerals.

Made from food-grade plastic tough enough to survive a winter in t'shed next to thi rusty lawnmower and that box of "useful" cables tha'll never use. Give it a rinse, bung it back on, job done. Easier than gettin' a straight answer out of a Yorkshireman at a bus stop.

So stop bein' a cheapskate and fill this thing up wi' a proper 2:1 sugar mix. Thi bees have been workin' their socks off all summer — least tha can do is buy 'em a round. Imagine if tha went to t'pub and t'landlord said "Nay, tha's had enough, here's a thimble of water." Tha'd riot. And so will they, only wi' more stinging.

Get it filled, get it on, and let 'em feast like it's Christmas dinner at t'mother-in-law's — all gone in ten minutes and somebody's havin' a nap after.

Now stop readin' this and go boil a kettle. Tha's got syrup to mix. 🐝