By The Elephant
This evening I find myself sitting across from The Parrot in his cozy hole-in-the-tree abode. He has placed a bowl of assorted nuts on the table between us and we crack them to reach the pulp inside. With each crack of a nutshell we can imagine the ice breaking as well, as we delve deep into The Parrot’s life.
The Elephant: So Parrot, what do you do for fun around here?
The Parrot: Well Elephant, I like to eat fruit, however that’s becoming difficult because most of my free time is now spent keeping greedy girls away from it!
TP: I eat fruit. Oh, I also read. I am an avid reader of books. Here is a picture as proof.
TE: You’re a veritable intellectual Parrot! But how do you turn the pages?
TE: The pages. Of the book.
TP: What book? Are you okay, Ellie?
TP: That’s an easy one. Self-composure. I have always been able to put up a good face. Oh, and I play the drums.
TP: Yes, and a book page turner made especially for parrots.
TE: But I thought … Nevermind. You’re multi-talented I see, and yes Parrot, I always thought you were as self-composed as a top 40s pop song. Now tell me, what were you doing in this picture?
TP: Oh that thing? Nice profile, huh? I don’t quite remember. I have a bird brain, you know. But it must have been taken at one of my many dance performances. I solo at famous concert halls and beach discotheques.
TE: Really?? That’s fascinating. So you’re a stage parrot!
TP: Well mostly I do it in trees close to concert halls and discotheques. I could get stepped on, Ellie. How would you like to finish a night of dancing by getting scraped off the bottom of an elephant’s foot?
TE: I see your point, Parrot. That is, if your words aren’t dripping with sarcasm.
TE: More like splattering, I’d say. Now, tell me about this last picture. If I remember correctly, the whole Tree Community went into full bloom mode when these photos were released.
TP: Oh yeah. I’m not sure what happened there. One minute I’m a bird and the next that lunatic girl is using me as scissors! The outrage! And what was the point of cutting an iris that somehow found itself way up in a tree? I admit it was a feat of balance–simultaneously cut the prize at the top and the flower several branches below, a feat requiring the wing span of an airplane. The blueberries between her toes were intact. The showboating! So to speak, of course. Until the slip. Some duckbilled bird claimed there was a banana peel on the branch. But even an iris is entitled to a little dignity, is it not? The nerve of that gruesome stretch-girl!! Why I oughta—
TE: Well we seem to have struck a nerve. And just in time! Thank you Parrot for a charming interview, unfortunately we have run out of time and—
TP: Whadda ya mean run outta time?!? This is a written interview, there’s no time limit!! Plus I haven’t finished my stories about that ungainly gangly girl who—
TE: Yes!!! Yes! Thank you Parrot. You should refill the assorted nuts, but please include more peanuts in the future. Unshelled is fine. In bigger bowls. Much bigger. Well thank you. Thank you. Join us next time everyone for another exclusive interview with Parrot!
TP: But—the stories. Did I mention the time she squeezed mango slop through her–