PPFFFFFBLLBBBPPPPPFFFFTT

“Ugh. Green Garey, show some decorum,” balked Pamela, attempting to sketch Green Garey’s naked rectum violently flatulating.

“Twas not AYE, Parrmela! Twas the mangey sky bird!”

“Green Garey practically all birds are ‘sky birds,’ that’s the whole point of birds. If anything this is a land bird, I mean cock Green Garey it’s an ostrich.”

They were looming over the piano-squished corpse of Petunia, while her owner quickly chomped his nails bloody. Pamela had not been impressed by her naked sketch of him.

“Petunia would never have mange you clucking—” the bloody mouthed whiny man looked Green Garey up and down, “—you clucking foreigner!”

“AYE, a foreigner indeed. As if AYE would rathaaaarg be kin to the laaargks of ye!”

“Wait, you wouldn’t?”

“Green Garey I don’t know what you think about this whole ostrich slaying mess other than that it was a hood opportunity to try and disguise some of the gastrointestinal distress you’re having on account of all those delicious spiced magic beans—”

“Hearsay, all of it, I tell ye!”

“—but I think this was a malignant attack. Maybe something to do with magic.”

“Maargick? But Parrmela, the piarrrno obviously just fell down and—”

“Fell from where, Green Garey? Are we under a piano lifting factory?”

They both knew the answer to that question. All the piano lifting factories were in Southeastwesterward Caldonia.

“Yaarg! AYE see what ye mean. So yer saying ye suspect…farrrwel plarrrrgy?”

“Yes, Green Garey. And what’s more, I know it must be women up to this mess. Or extremely womanly men. I guess I can’t say I know for sure. But it’s pretty close. Some sort of extremely feminine and disgrosstingly sexual androgenous pupae have been up to no hood around these parts.”

“Yaarg! Ye don’t mean witches, do ye?”

“I don’t know, Green Garey. I don’t really think so. This brand of stupid magic screams wizard to me. Somebody who reads a little too much. I mean, come on, a piano? Who do they think they are, Jacob the Piano Dropping Ostrich Murdering Hemaphrodyte? They wish they were, Green Garey. They wish.”

“Yaarg! Tales of that ol’ scallopwagon can chill a bone to the marrow.”

“I know.”

The froze, staring at the ostrich, imagining Jamilaianan the Piano Dropping Ostrich Murdering Hemaphrodyte sneaking up in creepy sequins and malignant fishnets and laboriously twirling a wand around to conjure up a deadly piano hoisted upon a failing pulley system. Many a young child’s worst nightmare. Many a young adult’s first shameful sexual interest.

“Are you two just going to stand there? I want these ostrich killers caught!”

“Sir, we are making an imaginary investigation of this crime scene and your whining and dawdling will only serve to slow us down. Please back away and leave us alone,” demanded Pamela, regarding the man as if he were an unruly skunk.

“Yaarg! As she says, landlumbar, or ye shall walk the skank!”

“Walk the skank? Nice, peg leg. Cock, you foreigners are all raised by human eating eight legged bear wolves.”

Green Garey bubbled with rage and gas, turning red in the face for the first time Pamela had ever seen.

“AYE had a human eating eight legged bear wolf as a pet as a wee lad! And I’ll have ye know that AYE would prefer its poor deceased compaaargney over that of yerself’s arrrgnyday!”

Green Garey drew his cutlass and pointed it at Petunia’s former owner.

“Green Garey! Let it go! He’s not worth it.”

“Green Garey? Who has a color for a name? Should I call myself Blue Buncle from now on?”

“Yaaarg! What in the cluck kind of a name is Buncle?”

“A faaargmily name!”

“That’s not how AYE’d say faaaaaaaaaaargmily.”

Pamela grabbed Green Garey and yanked him away from the wimpy man named Buncle. “You’ve got to just let it go, Green Garey. We have bigger onion slices to sautee.”

“Yaaarg! Parrrmela, ye’re right, as usual. Thank ye,” Green Garey sighed, sheathing his blade.

The man wheezed a nasal laugh, “Yeah, that’s right. Back down, vitch.”

Pamela suddenly felt volts of electric rage surge through her. “Get the cluck out of here! Don’t talk to him like that! We are your Royal Gourd and you will show us respect!”

The man shrunk to an even more dilapidated and pitiful state, begrudgingly slithering out like a melting cactus. Pamela and Green Garey once again stared at Petunia, in all her dead glory.

“You know, Green Garey, before all that I was really hoping you’d ask me how I knew that a woman killed this ostrich. It’s a whole thing with trajectories and the weight of the average boob and honestly an analysis I’m very proud of.”

“Yaaarg.”

“You don’t want to hear it, do you, Green Garey?”

“Yaaarg..”

“It’s okay, Green Garey. I don’t magic like telling it any more either. That guy was the worst.”

“Aye. Worst indeed. Out’a be sent teh Danny Dervishes’ Timeshare, scallopwagon ‘e is.”

“I agree.”

“Yaaaarg.”

“Okay Green Garey I lied I really want to tell you about how I knew it was a woman who killed the ostrich.”

“Yaarg?”

“Yeah I am just dying to let it out.”

“Yaaarg.”

“Cock, you really don’t want to hear it, do you?”

“Yaaarg.”

“Cluck it, I’m going to tell you anyway. You’ll love it, Green Garey, I promise.”

***

“Y’ew’l lay’wuv i’yut, I p’r’amiss!” Frinkles urged the ladies to eat their festival stew. It was thick, cloudy, and it looked like there were some eyeballs floating around in it with heavy cataracts.

They were sitting at a large, long ‘table’ made of a felled adams fir tree. Many Windless Forestians with similar outfits, gaits, and accents to Frinkles were blurting difficult to understand, inconsequential nothings about crimes and sexual exploits they had committed, were in the process of committing or hoped to one day commit. They were also fartily gulping down the soup, some attempting to pick it up and shovel it into their mouths as if it were a meatloaf.

“Uhm, Frinky dink?” asked Krumbumbum in a patronizingly girlish voice. “What’s with the eyeballs floating around in this shit?”

“O’wuh, wh’ay th’ayut’s j’juwst f’froot ‘o th’ ol’ ah’yuh’bowel t’ree! ’s a r’ray’r d’delicuhsay!”

“Rare?” snorted Broderica, burping up alcohol as she spooned through the slush, fishing through eyeballs. “But there must be enough of these hamn things in my soup to feed a village of giants!”

Giants were a race of quite small, meager, androgenous fellows that enjoyed eat gooey things like slugs, salamanders, and baby eels.

“Y’yeyah, r’are, l’liyk, iyn’ste’d uf b’beyin w’weyull d’un, w’we d’ew a’wurs me’dyum r’ay’r!”

HAUH FFFSSSSSPTT

Krumbumbum spat the eyeball she had just wrapped her lips around out, launching it like a potato cannon.

BFPLTT

“Cluck my clucking eyeball oh cluck!” Biscuit Pisser squinted as she rubbed her cheek where the eyeball she had stuck in her fork had bounced against after Krumbumbum’s projectile eyeball had splotched into it. “That really clucking hurt you clucking ass—” Biscuit Pisser froze as she recognized the volatile look boiling over Broderica’s face. “Ehrm, you absolute punt.”

GAAAAAAAHHSP

Everyone at the Windless Forest feast fell silent, staring awkwardly around, trying to see where exactly the unfowl utterance had emanated from. The only thing they could hear was the absence of the wind around them. And then, in the distance, the gigantic tree-locked chicken giving out a delayed clucklike gasp, though it seemed only to be because the chicken realized that it ought to be gasping to keep up appearances.

“E’ehr’muh, d’eugh, B’is’quick P’iyuss’ur, y’yew a’wta n’awt s’sayuh th’ayut. ’s r’rood n’ s’uwtch.”

Biscuit Pisser leapt across the trunk table, knocking over bowls of eyeball soup, and squeezed Frinkles’ neck like an avoacdo.

“You can’t clucking call me Biscuit Pisser! You weren’t there! You weren’t there when I—well, you would know if you’d been there but you haven’t,” she spat, releasing Frinkles to sputter and gasp on the floor. “Whew. Sorry about that. Girls, would you try and hold me back next time?”

Krumbumbum and Broderica blinked preturbedly at Biscuit Pisser.

“What did you just say?” Krumbumbum fussed, readjusting her straps.

“I just asked you two to hold me back next time.”

Broderica jiggled her jowls and her malletlike boobies, “Wait wait wait a second wait a second wait a second here wait a second wait just a clucking just just would you wait a mother clucking second I mean wait wait could you just all could you all just wait just wait a clucking second just one just one mother clucking second if you please could just wait one clucking second and GAAAWWW” she coughed up an eyeball, which bounced down the trunk table, eventually landing in the near empty bowl of a hungry Windless Forestian who gladly scooped it up and munched with joy, “WWWWK sorry but would you would you I mean would you could you just just clucking wait I mean would you please clucking wait just a clucking a mother clucking a clucking mother clucking cock hamn second just just a second a second I mean just a second people just just wait a clucking a clucking second and—”

“Get to the clucking point vitch!” Krumbumbum ejaculated, backhand slapping Broderica’s face with such pitiful weakness that it appeared as if she had but slapped a trash can.

Broderica’s eyes blazed with disgrosst.

“You absolute punt.”

GAAAAAAAAAAAH

“Oh cluck off already I get it!” Broderica swiveled the overfilled water balloons on her chest and also the rest of her body around to look at a slender figure off in the distance.