FINCH

If I were a finch, I would sit on your neighbour’s roof and shit on his tulips. And you couldn’t say anything, the flowers are not yours! I would gawk at all your four windows and I would screech in a loud horrible manner. And you know, when you’d want to show off in front off your uncle and fry him two lots of potatoes with those stinky onions, I would hop so hard on the roof, that all onions would jump out of the pan. Hell yeah, not only the neighbour would laugh, but the tulips too. The ones on the right.

And you know, when you’ll be eating your porridge with a wooden spoon two days from now and you’ll be thinking how to get your revenge on me, I’ll be already on the roof on the other side of the village and won’t remember either the tulips or the stink of those onions.

– Chatty Owl has left the building –

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