Friday, 9 February 2007


I had found a few apples at the bottom of the fruit bowl that had shrivelled somewhat. Totally useless for poisoning and feeding to some vain, selfish little emo who thinks she can just wrap her father around her little finger and get him to spend all his hard earned money on her, rather than his attentive new boyfriend. Bitch.

What was I saying? Oh, yes. Apples.

Anyway, rather than just chuck them in the bin, I put the apples outside on the dining room window sill with the intention of throwing them on the compost heap. Needless to say, I forgot about them. They were in such a position that, when leaving the house, they weren't in line of sight, therefore, out of sight, out of mind. However, on my way into the house, I can see them, and every time I do, I think I must remember to chuck those apples onto the compost heap.

Except for yesterday.

Yesterday, as I approached the back door, I noticed that two of the apples had been attacked! At first I thought perhaps mice had had a go, but on closer inspection it appeared that the apples had been stabbed several times by a small, but very sharp instrument then torn apart and had the flesh removed. Quite macabre!

This morning, when I went outside to empty the kitchen compost bin onto the 'heap, I felt like I was being watched as I manouevered down the back passage. Despite twisting this way and that with furiously darting eyes - and nearly falling over with dizziness - I could see nothing to corroborate my feeling, yet I was sure there was something there.

It wasn't until I had sat down with a cup of coffee that something caught my eye:

A flash of black through the zantedeschia leaves.

The quick flapping of shadowed wings beyond the chlorophytum.

The scrape of claws on wood.

A yellow ringed orb of evil glaring balefully through the cold glass.

At me!

Shitting Hell! It was Beaky!

I flinched slightly, before recovering my composure. Well, this was a turn up for the books. Beaky's evil schemes for world domination had obviously come to naught. Now he's reduced to scavenging scraps. How the mighty have fallen.



  1. Ah, so your mortal enemy Beaky returns! and he has eyebrows!

    How about burying the hatchet and putting some nuts/seeds out for him?

    I am having a terrible time with sparrows attacking my crocuses.

  2. I was scrolling down slowly and gasped quite audibly when I came upon Beaky. Scary stuff!

  3. Beaky?

    Do you mean Captain Beaky, the one with the bravest animals in the land?

  4. Oh good.

    Someone has shit on his head!

    Not so funny now is it Mr Beaky?

  5. I was going to say something about how I thought the apples had come to life as zombie apples, but the more pressing issue at hand is...

    What is that on Beaky's head?

  6. Welcome back Beaky! He is meant to be with you.

  7. Beaky is back! I like his little witchy streak of white feathers. You can't shake those familiars.

    Wasìt 4 and 20 blackbirds baked in the pie?

  8. Anonymous10/2/07 01:50

    Be careful, if Beaky truly is your familiar, you want him alive, or you might lose all your witchy powers, and the coven will kick you out and you'll never be able to hang out with the hot sisters from Charmed.

    And that would be awful, truly awful.

  9. Frobi: I'm more inclined to take a hatchet to Beaky, then bury him!

    Dinah: You don't know the half of it. He's a nasty, vicious little sod!

    Tickers: Oh, yes! Of course I do. All this stuff about a blackbird was to put you off the trail, but I see you've managed to work out my despicable schemes.

    SID: If only ...

    Tim: Heh heh! Zombie apples... Oh no! A spell left my head as I was thinking that. Now I hope that Beaky hangs around long enough to devour the apples before they zombify!

    Snooze: In the way that lit cigarettes are meant to be discarded at petrol stations?

    T-Bird: It'd be 4 & 20 and one, if I had my way.

    Jay: I'll take that warning with the sarcasm with which it was intended.

    Sarcasm was intended, wasn't it?

  10. Anonymous10/2/07 11:02

    No sarcasm, just a heavy dose of salt. I was just being my usual stupid self, very late in the night. Apologies if I have offended.

  11. Oh gosh, not at all!

    Those Charmed cows just set my teeth on edge, that's all.

    And I've replaced Beaky with a rabbit. But he's getting more uppity as the days go on. I don't seem to have a lot of luck with familiars...

  12. Ever thought about a cat as a familiar? They are always uppity, so at least you know where you stand with them.

    Or are cats too horribly last century?

  13. Father to a emo? Oh how I pity you! Still, better than a chav...

  14. Anonymous11/2/07 00:18

    Its a blackbird. It likes fruit. And other stuff, pretty flexible actually. Very common UK garden bird. Yours has a slight degree of albinism.

  15. T-Bird: You're right. Cats are too horribl(y last century). And I know where I stand: On them.

    Jingoistic: Oh, much better. At least Emoism is a choice, whereas Chavness comes from breeding.
    Anyway, I'm having second thoughts about the emo's father...

    Mutley: Beaky'll have a slight degree of death if I get my way.

  16. Anonymous11/2/07 18:52

    I want to know what you were doing at the bottom of the fruit bowl.

    Fucking pervert.

  17. I bet you do, you sordid little poof. I bet that whatever I say won't be anywhere near as disgusting as what's already in your head!

  18. Anonymous11/2/07 22:16

    Disgusting? In MY head? Whatever kind of gentle creature do you imagine I'm not?

    Nothing but thoughts of pale pink marshmallows and home-made lemonade ever enters my thoughts.

    Cheeky cunt.

  19. You flinched? tsk tsk tsk

  20. P&T: Oh, I must've been thinking of someone else...

    * rolls eyes *

    Skillz: I know. Shame on me. Should've had my precognition switched on.


Tickle my fancy, why don't you?