The War

I told the man I bought it from that it was for birds. "Oh, can you fly?" He asked. Just because I can't fly doesn't mean I'm not a bird.  You should see me hop around like birds do and stare cockeyed at people when they confuse me, and if I ever have kids, and anyone at all tries going near them I will extend my arms and swoop at them and try pecking their eyes out with my nose and teeth.  

Anyway, who says I can't fly.  You should see my flying outfit.  I was in the war, goddamit.  I deserve some respect.  Check out my ring, look at my jacket and scarf.  And if you haven't noticed my helmet with goggles, then I'm afraid you don't know what a pilot is.  Do not question my flying abilities, It's quite insulting.

I spoke like this to a flabby gay man on a plane I was commanding.  Commanding not for monies, or honour, but out of necessity.  Something or other had happened, and the regular pilots were nowhere to be seen.  Wasn't that a larf.  I wanted some freaking peanuts, like I always do when on a plane (part squirrel), so I pattered to the front of the plane, and to my dismay (horrifying excitement) the plane was flying itself.  It wasn't long before everyone found out, and due to my vocal chords, it wasn't long before everyone knew I was in fact quite an accomplished pilot.  I fought in the war goddamnit and deserve some respect.  Look at my helmet and goggles, look at my scarf, if these don't make you a believer, then nothing will, what do you want?  A badge?  Screw off.  The scarf and goggles were conviction enough for everyone except the flabby gay man, who was crying, no, bawling.  Never in my life had I ever seen a man cry as much as he. 

 "Pull yourself together, man."  And I slapped him twice across the face matter of factly.  "I think I may be sick, and it's not from the turbulence we are about to receive."  But he wouldn't, for the life of him, stop blubbering.  His cheeks shook with it.  I was about to get sick. 

Of course, before that harrowing and eventful day, I had never actually flown a real plane.  In the war I was the cook and the secret ingredient was flies.  I told them they were raisins, fools.  But just because I haven't flown a plane doesn't mean I can't fly.  I'm not saying I have feathers, or that I live in some creepy nest on the side of a building, but I have managed to design a contraption.  And that's all I'm gonna say about that.

So, what I guess I'm trying to say is if you see a giant winged mammal adorning pink ribbons and shouting profanities flying over your head on a hot summers afternoon, do not shoot at it.  He will bring you gifts whilst you are sleeping.  Sleeping in your soft, soft pyjamas, or naked if that is what you do.