Hey! What do you think you're doing? MOUSES!
Lookie here, little birdie, this ain't no tug-of-war, it's...
Do you see what you just made me do? I used the word ain't. Ain't ain't even a word! I mean, it isn't. MOUSES!
Now come on, Mr. Birdie... Or are you a missus? Doesn't matter, really. All I know is that you're rude. Rude as the rudest of birds can be. MOUSES!
Yeah, you. Yeah, I'm talkin' to YOU. I'm talking to you, the tug-of-war playing rude birdie who's ripping apart the peep's flowers and making me use bad grammar.
Don't bother looking over your shoulder, little birdie. There's no one back there. Don't think you're gonna palm the blame off on someone else. You don't even have palms. You're a bird! MOUSES!
This was what happened at my house, the other morning. As you can imagine, I was saying a whole lot of MOUSES! on account of the mousin' rudeness of that moused-up bird. MOUSES!
Now you're probably wondering how a little birdie got me so worked up as normally, this here garden of mine is a bird-friendly zone, for sure. Well wonder no more 'cause I'm gonna spill the beans right here and right now.
Please note that my spilling of beans does not involve any actual beans. I'm gonna tell you right here and right now that there are no beans planted in my garden. Do you know what happens when you plant beans? I'll tell you what happens. You get beanstalks growing, for sure. And do you know what happens when those beanstalks that are growing happen to be growing from magical beans?
YOU DON'T WANNA KNOW!
Believe me, I know. MOUSES!
But back to the beans...
No, I mean, the bird. The rude bird. The rudest bird ever, and for sure. MOUSES!
What's that, Andy? Was the bird being rude on account of his having eaten some beans? I don't think so, Brother Anderson, also known as Sir Fartsalot. That's your department. Remember? MOUSES!
Anyway, there was this bird. I don't know what kind of bird he was except for the fact that he was black like a crow but too small to actually be a crow so I'm thinking he was one of those birdies called Blackbirds or something. You know the ones, I am sure.
So there was this bird who was smaller than a crow but bigger than a little Chickadee or Goldfinch. A medium-sized bird with gargantuan-sized rudeness packed right in.
And he was rude. Rude as rude can be. Do you know what he did?
I'll tell you what he did. He tore up Peep's rock cress, for sure.
That's right, I was looking out the front door and I saw this medium-sized birdie, we think might be a Blackbird, grab hold of the rock cress and start pulling and pulling and pulling like there was no tomorrow. He was pulling that ol' rock cress like it was a worm in the ground, holding onto said ground for dear life, except for the fact that it wasn't a worm but rather, a sprig of the peep's rock cress she had planted in the front garden.
I WAS GONNA POSSIBLY POSE NEXT TO THAT ROCK CRESS FOR PICTURE TAKING AND EVERYTHING. MOUSES!
Well at least I was thinking about posing. Posing like Rushton did, earlier. I was giving it some consideration, for sure. Maybe. Kinda. Possibly. That sort of thing. MOUSES!
Anyway, so the rude bird pulled and pulled and pulled until the rock cress could hold on no longer and gave up on the ol' game of tug-of-war, and let go.
Just to clarify, it was the rock cress who let go and not the birdie. No, the birdie held on, causing him to stagger back and when he did, he had a sprig of flowering rock cress in his beak. Then he began to strut about, showing off his prize, like he was cock of the walk and then...
Okay, there was no actual strutting involved.
But after the tug-of-war game ended and I stopped yelling, the birdie took one look at me and flew off with that rock cress still in his beak. Yup, flew off to parts unknown wherever those parts may be. MOUSES!
I, of course, was disgusted.
But I got over my disgust and immediately went and told the peep on that birdie, so as to make sure she didn't blame me for the missing rock cress, thinking I had ripped it apart so as not to have to have my picture taken with it. MOUSES!
Later that day, I discovered two pansy flowers lying on the driveway, nowhere near where any pansy plants grow. Lying there, wilting away. Methinks that birdie had something to do with the demise of the pansies, too. MOUSES!