Chapter 58: Helga's Parrot
Isn't one of the benefits of having a pet supposed to be that you can say whatever the heck you want around it, without having to worry about anything?
I walked inside one afternoon to find Bob had decided he needed a parrot to praise his sales work.
"All hail the Beeper King!"
Is that not what his commercials and customers are for?
Apparently, it didn't take long for him to decide a few goofy words recited from that annoying feather head's mouth wasn't worth dealing with in general.
I woke up the next morning to find the freaking thing had not only been placed in my room, but also memorized one of my sensitive moments about Arnold…
Arnold my love
My sultry preteen
Why must I hold you only whilst I dream?
Will I be forever enslaved by your spell?
Why must I worship you, and never ever tell?
Arnold, you make my girlhood tremble
My senses all go wacky
Someday I'll tell the world my love
Or my name's not Helga G. Pataki
Don't ask why I always sign my name on things I would never want revealed to the world. Perhaps it's my pride. One day I would like people to see how amazing I am with words; just not at any point and time that I may be humiliated by them.
That was exactly what that crazy bird was about to do to me! The moment I found Bob's chainsaw in the garage, I knew I would never have to worry about my secret getting out. That is… if the stupid thing hadn't escaped it's cage!
"You can run but you can't hide! I'll hunt you down, I swear it!"
I followed feather butt all across the city. Did I catch him? Pttss… dream on! Instead, I saw the stupid thing fly into Arnold's open window!
"Oh my AHHHHH!"
Well, my plan to ask for the stupid thing back didn't seem like such a good idea, once I heard it had already started blabbing my poem to Arnold.
All I could do was eavesdrop on football head and gramps (who insisted Arnold keep the bird).
I then followed them to the pet store, in the hopes of snatching the stupid thing off Arnold's shoulder.
That bird's just a giant scared cat. One look at my arm, and it starts screaming.
Of course that gives Arnold the cue to turn around and ask what I was doing there.
"Oh hey Helga, what are you doing here? Buying a pet?"
When someone's put on the spot, they don't have time to think rationally. I just pointed to the nearest thing I saw…
"Yep, monitor lizard. That's the pet for me."
Thank goodness for Pheebs! It's hard enough sneaking in Arnold's house by myself. I couldn't carry that thing with me.
She wasn't too crazy about the idea, but I was running out of time. I was a little shocked to be honest that feathered freak hadn't finished the poem yet.
Like that wasn't a big enough problem, I see Little Miss Perfect coming into Arnold's room, suggesting he bring the bird to class? Another reason to hate her.
Well, once I pried those two apart from behind the couch, I had to wait in Arnold's room for hours. Why?
Like I said, the parrot's a scardy cat. It made Arnold carry it everywhere!
Once I heard them coming back upstairs… hours later… something took my mind off the bird. My beloved was getting undressed. That didn't make it so easy to stay awake.
I awoke the moment his alarm went off. Did I escape behind the couch? Yes. Did I have the remote with me? What kind of luck do you think I was born with?
Of course Arnold decided to take the bird to school. Even after managing to stomp my way through the floor, and onto the kitchen table, gramps didn't care to know what I was doing there?
Limping across town, I managed to make it to class in time to see the stupid thing reciting my work. Pheebs was trying to tell me she couldn't keep the lizard.
What kind of teacher let's you bring something like that to school anyway?
Whether or not it was rational, it turned out to be the luckiest thing that ever happened to me. Just as the bird was finishing my poem, the carnivore decided it was his turn to steal the spotlight…
"Someday I'll tell the world my love, or my name's not Hel…"
Pheebs will always be my best friend, but that animal now holds a special place in my heart.
The saucy yet QUIET thing is laying in the corner of my room now. Heck I may even use it to eat the poems I write that I think turn out like crap.