Birds.
Why birds?
What is wrong with these people? Is being dumb contagious or something?
If they wanted feathers, they could just rip up a pillow. If they wanted something that flies they’re fucking standing in it! (Not for long).
Good thing no one had any damn time to try any of those damn ‘Duck!’ jokes.
Little thing’s got a screw loose or something. Vincent kept tripping over his own shoes trying to keep from stepping on that thing and had a damn hard time with it following him into the fucking restroom. I know because I heard the gunshots and the sound of him trying to hit it with a plunger.
It didn’t help things when the thing got lost in his cape. Well, at least I had somewhere to put all the bugs I peeled off the windows for a while.
It was the duck’s own damn fault. It wanted to follow Vince everywhere, we all said ‘Fine’ and, well, maybe if we had a bigger duck, that lizard would have gotten full and left us alone.
Most people try an idea, see what went wrong, and then come up with a smarter idea. Not these people.
There was something I liked about that little duck, stupid as it was.
It was fucking QUIET!
These idiots think Vincent’ll be happier with someone to talk to. He does! He can talk to me. He can talk to Red. He can talk to the annoying plushie. He has five other people to talk to as well, it’s just they have the IQ of mayonnaise.
Hell, he can talk to the TV, the fucking wall, Sephiroth.
I just don’t think he’s up to talking.
Well apparently I got outvoted on the moron committee. They got hi a freaking parrot. A FREAKING PARROT.
Okay, I like Vincent.
Sure, he’s a bit loopy and he dives under the bed when some things are mentioned, but he’s a nice guy. He’s polite. Why?
When he does fucking talk, he knows when to shut up!
One day—one fucking day—with that bird and it’s rattling off a dozen of the most depressing things ever. This a) makes Vincent more depressed b) me more pissed and c) even managed to upset Yuffie after a while of trying to teach it ‘Polly want a finger.’ It never worked and we found her crying about being worthless or something.
Note to self: Duct taping a bird’s mouth shut is a bad idea.
Okay, so that’s one for me (two if you count joining up with these fucking idiots) and nine million and twelve for them.
Too bad it wasn’t their last dumbassed idea.
If I ever, EVER, EVER complain about Cloud’s driving, I am going to think about parakeets first and then I will be fucking thankful.
Some birds bonk into windows ‘cause they don’t know any better. It doesn’t look like there’s anything there, so it must be nothing, right?
These things don’t crash into windows. These things crash into anything BUT windows. They smacked into Vincent and Barret, hit every single wall, ceiling, floor, ad piece of fucking equipment and furniture there is in my plane, took out my cigarette tip, and shot up Tifa’s skirt.
Then, as always the buggering things just sit up and go ‘chirp!’ As in fucking ‘Chirp! I hit something’ I’ll chirp you, you nutter.
Now, in case I forget this and yell at Cloud, I’m writing it down. These things do not merely hit things. These things make an entire Olympics competition out of it.
I hate those things. No, I motherfucking HATE those things. When they aren’t trying to bash everything with their head and give ya a heart attack, they sit there and chirp. They don’t go ‘chirp! I hit something!’ or ‘Chirp! I’m a freaking dumbass!’ They chirp and chirp and chirp until they woke up Juunon (While we’re over at Icicle Inn) about everything. The plane could crash and they’d fluff themselves and bonk something. I turn the lights on, I open a door, I sneeze, I breathe, I fucking exist and it’s nothing but ‘CHIRP!’ for a fucking hour.
Thankfully, Yuffie got herself into some trouble with the authorities and gave me time and privacy to suck the buggers up with a vacuum and chuck the thing out while in mid air. I told ‘em they things flew out the window.
Well, they DID!