Doppelganger

Wilson carried the two bees into the kitchen, where they sat on the table like identical twins. 

'One of these,' Wilson announced gravely, 'is a Doppelgänger! That is a very bad omen. I shall telephone Mr Derek Acorah, if I can find his number, and ask him for advice. Then I shall test both bees with my ectoplasm detector to see which is the real Polly-B.'

'You've got an ectoplasm detector?' I asked, incredulously.

In answer he raised a long kebab skewer and made a jabbing motion. Both bees gulped nervously.

I made a suggestion: 'Why don't you just ask both of them which is the real Polly-B, then ask her where the other one came from?'

'That could work too, I suppose,' W replied doubtfully, and raised his eyebrows questioningly towards the two plush insects.

'Well, I'm Polly-B,' answered one, 'and this is my new friend. We met while we were out practicing at the Luge Track!'