Oh shit. How much did he have to drink last night? Bobby looks around in confusion. He's in the sanctuary of a chapel, which is weird, because as much as he and Joanne have had some weird benders before, neither of them is the kind of drunk to get spiritual at 2am and break into a church. He hopes, anyway.
Come to think of it, was he with anyone last night? Jeez, was he drinking alone? How the hell did he end up here?
He gets up, and hears a skittering sort of sound in addition to the creaking of the wooden chair. The scrape of little clawed feet on the carpet.
"What the hell," he mumbles, and starts to look under the chair when a bird flutters out from under it and onto a brass candleholder.
Bobby stares at it. "What." He is living in the setup for the world's stupidest joke.
The bird stares back, light from a high window glistening off its reddish, vibrantly-spotted feathers. It's larger than a pigeon, definitely, and much cleaner looking, with a black and red head and a patch of blue on its neck. It blinks its beady eyes at him.
"The hell are you," he asks snidely, ignoring for the moment he's talking to a bird. "Some sort of chicken?"
"No," the bird says coldly, and puffs up its feathers. In seconds there are a pair of...little horns sticking out of its head, and the bright patch on its neck has grown into a terrifying electric blue...vulva thing.
Which is about when Bobby yelps and staggers backwards and knocks over the wooden screen that separates the sanctuary from the rest of the space.
Re: (i'm sorry I wrote a small book)
Come to think of it, was he with anyone last night? Jeez, was he drinking alone? How the hell did he end up here?
He gets up, and hears a skittering sort of sound in addition to the creaking of the wooden chair. The scrape of little clawed feet on the carpet.
"What the hell," he mumbles, and starts to look under the chair when a bird flutters out from under it and onto a brass candleholder.
Bobby stares at it. "What." He is living in the setup for the world's stupidest joke.
The bird stares back, light from a high window glistening off its reddish, vibrantly-spotted feathers. It's larger than a pigeon, definitely, and much cleaner looking, with a black and red head and a patch of blue on its neck. It blinks its beady eyes at him.
"The hell are you," he asks snidely, ignoring for the moment he's talking to a bird. "Some sort of chicken?"
"No," the bird says coldly, and puffs up its feathers. In seconds there are a pair of...little horns sticking out of its head, and the bright patch on its neck has grown into a terrifying electric blue...
vulvathing.Which is about when Bobby yelps and staggers backwards and knocks over the wooden screen that separates the sanctuary from the rest of the space.