Feathersorg Makes Breakfast
When I woke up this morning the first thing I saw was the handle of a Swiss army knife sticking out of the frame of my window. I opened the window to investigate and saw that the blade was driven deeply into the wood of the frame. Hanging crookedly from the exposed bit of blade was a typed note. It was a full sheet of computer paper with one line of boldface type in all capitals across the middle.
GIVE ME ONE MILLION AMERICAN DOLLARS BY FEBRUARY 8TH OR I WILL KILL YOUR GIRL
My first thought was that it must have taken a great deal of strength to drive the blade that deeply into the wood of the window frame.
My second thought was that it was strange the writer of the note had asked for American dollars here in Finland.
My third thought was to wonder how he intended to receive the money from me if he didn't leave an address.
My fourth thought was "How am I ever going to come up with a million dollars my Sunday?" (it was Tuesday).
My fifth (and final) thought was "What girl? I'm certainly not married and I've never even had a girlfriend. Hell, I don't' even have a sister or co-worker someone could have mistaken for 'my girl'", and so I stopped fretting and took a nice long shower.
After my shower I'd forgotten all about the note and I went into the kitchen where Lord Fluffy McFeatherdown had breakfast waiting. Lord Fluffy is a much better chef than I so he always insists on doing all the cooking. The only drawback with this arrangement is that I never get to eat eggs or poultry. Lord Fluffy says that would be cannibalism (he's a penguin).
"Good morning, Fluffy!" I said "Did you get any sleep last night?" He has a habit of staying awake all night trying to take over the world via the internet.
"Call me Feathersorg, you pink pincushion," he growled, eying his fork with obvious evil intent.
"Oh, sorry. I forgot. But I really don't like being called a pincushion, it kind of implies that you think of me as disposable."
"Whatever, beakless looser."
"Remember it was me that paid for your prosthetic opposable thumbs and your voice modification. If it weren't for me you'd still be a flippered little bird with no way of communicating other than adorable little squawking noises."
"Speaking of communicating, I learned how to use the printer last night." Feathersorg grinned (at least his eyes grinned, despite his whining for facial surgery I still won't pay an innumerable amount of money just so a penguin can smile or frown).
"You did WHAT! I've told you over and again that you're not allowed to touch the printer because you're clumsy and you'll break it."
"Well, I did read the users' manual first," he said around a beakfull of sardines. "Anyway, I printed something for you this morning, did you find it?"
"What did you print? it wasn't a demand for a million dollars, was it?"
Feathersorg looked me straight in the eye. An expressionless, evil sort of look. Then he burst out laughing. I hurled a piece of toast at the feathered little bastard sitting across from me but he ducked and then leaped from his chair and launched himself straight at my face. I defended myself with a butterknife as Feathersorg tried to beat my face with a spork. My chair fell over backward and we landed in a tangled heap on the tile floor. Fluffy's webbed foot was in my ear and his right flipper, prosthetic opposable thumb and spork were entangled with my hair and I had a mouthful of tail feathers.
"You weren't serious about the million dollars, were you?" I laughed after I'd gotten his tail out of my mouth.
"Not really, but I DO need gas money for my motorcycle." Said Feathersorg "And I could always do with more Iron Maiden and Manowar CDs."
"What you really need is a job, you featherbrained looser."
"I'm a penguin, remember. Your idiotic government discriminates against us poultry. That's what I keep you for."
"You don't 'keep' me, Featherling. I keep you, you're my pet. Now get off of me."
It took me twenty minutes to get that spork out of my hair.
