Why, no, I don't quite feel like breaking my neck today, thanks. Maybe next Tuesday would work out better.
You're probably wondering what's going on, you poor, curious reader.
Well then, let me tell you.
Jeb is trying to teach me how to fly, which must be the single STUPIDEST idea he's ever had in his entire life.
Does he know how to fly?
No.
Does he have the remotest idea of how to fly?
Well, I guess I'll give him that one…
Do I feel like breaking my neck today?
An emphatic NO!
"Come on, Max." he wheedled.
I gave him my patented no-way-no-how-not-in-a-million-years-NO! look.
"It'll be fun." He persisted.
Still giving him that look…
"Just give it a try."
"I'm sorry; I'm not feeling particularly SUICIDAL today." I shot at him.
"Fine, Max, but when everyone else can fly and you can't…" he left off.
"I'll still be safely in one piece." I finished for him.
We were sitting at the table, he was drinking coffee, and I was eating cereal and staring blackly at him.
The rest of our little flock was watching with interest.
"What do you think those wings of yours are for?" he demanded, fed up.
"The entertainment for a bunch of sick-o scientists who got together and tried to see how well they could graft avian DNA into a human fetus."
He stared long and hard at me, and I stared right back.
"Max."
"Jeb."
Silence, and the battle of wills went on.
Finally, I threw up my hands and said, "FINE!" and stormed out of the kitchen.
I heard the rest of the flock burst into cheers, and Jeb say "You won't regret this, Max."
When I turned to glare at him, he was grinning. I shot him a ultra-mega-super-duper-mean-look anyway and slammed the door shut.
A Lot Later
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGHHHHHHH!" I screamed, as I was thrown up in the air once again.
I desperately flapped my wings and fought for control, but I felt myself falling, AGAIN.
I ground my teeth.
Oh, no. We'd been doing this for hours. If I couldn't fly by now, I never would.
I flapped strongly, using all of the wing muscles Jeb had been making me develop for the past month.
I stopped falling, and slowly but surely started to rise.
This was kind of fun, really.
I somersaulted mid-air, trying to see if I could do it, and fell about five feet before I caught myself.
I tried it again, and this time I pulled it off.
Everyone was cheering and yelling and stomping their feet, their icy breath drifted up to me.
I waved lazily, still rising.
Then a thought occurred to me.
"Um, Jeb?" I called.
"What, Max?" He shouted up.
"How do I land?"