Thursday, March 26, 2015

The Other Bird

"The Other Bird" by T.K. Wade (From the pages of "Wild.")

Ryan had always been a proud cardinal. Every day, he would wake up, fly off to the most prominent of trees, and perch upon it for all to see. And why not? There were few who could compare to his pretty-bird looks.

Of course, that is how he would have liked it to go. The reality was that this ritual was commonly thwarted by the appearance of his double. Ryan tried not to be jealous. Such a display could prove most unbecoming of the pretty bird, but it was obvious that more action would have to be taken.

“I see you over there,” said the cardinal. “You think that mocking me by copying my every move will make you great. Pshaw. Such actions will benefit you not.”

The other bird had spent the entire conversation mimicking every beak movement, every mannerism, and every bit of Ryan’s beautiful posture. It could almost be considered a crime to do such a thing. Well, at the very least, it should be a crime.

“Am I really that much of a joke to you? Is it really not a waste of your time to perch in front of me and display such a crude mockery of myself?” Seeing the other bird still mimic his every movement, the cardinal ruffled his feathers and turned about. “I will ignore you. After all, I am the better of the two of us.”

It seemed like the perfect plan. Just turn around, and Ryan would not have to deal with the annoying reprobate anymore. For a while, the cardinal was content. Now that he did not have to worry about the annoyance, he would proudly tweet so that the others would know of his majestic presence. This worked for a while, at least.

Regardless of his denial, Ryan would occasionally glimpse the other bird out of the corner of his eye. So what if he could not see him; the cardinal still knew that he was there. And what of his grand assortment of admirers? They would see the mockery even if he could not. The conditions were simply unacceptable.

One day, the cardinal looked behind him. There was the other bird. He was still mocking his every move. Anger began to fill Ryan’s heart. With this bird constantly sitting behind him, he would still be considered a joke to the passersby. Slowly, he turned around on the branch and angrily stared at the other bird.

“Your joke has gone on long enough. I expect you to leave immediately.” The bird still mocked him. “Are you deaf?! I said I wish for you to leave this instant!” The bird still mocked. “If you persist in constantly making a joke out of everything I hold dear, then I will be forced to attack!” The other bird never stopped.

“I have a very important routine! Regardless of how you feel about me, I am the most majestic creature in this part of town! To be mocked by something no more than a… a second-rate is more aggravating than I can imagine! So, I ask you to desist!” The other bird still persisted.

Ryan glared into the other bird’s eyes. Those eyes were just as angry as his own. Something like that could not be faked. “So! It all comes out! Jealousy! Just petty Jealousy! And for this, you have come here, day after day, just to make my life miserable! I have had enough of you! I have absolutely had enough of you and your incessant ridicule! Do you want a fight?! Do you really desire to do battle with me?!”

The expression on the other bird was clear. As Ryan reared himself ready to strike, so did the enemy. “Have at you then!”

Ryan leapt off of the branch and darted directly towards the other bird who did the exact same thing. Their beaks struck and both flew away to go for another pass. Ryan cried, “I hate you! I hate you with every fiber of my being! I wanted to be beautiful, but because of you, I am just a joke!”

Once again, the two beaks collided. Ryan flew away to a farther branch. He glowered at the other bird with so much hate. With everything he could muster, he screamed at the enemy, “Enough with these games! No more mocking! No more injustice! I am going to kill you! I am going to kill you for ruining my life!”

And with that, Ryan sprung from the branch, flew up into the air as high as he could, and then darted downward towards the offending bird. He flew with such swiftness that he was sure to destroy him in one fell swoop. When the moment finally came, Ryan heard a loud crunch and everything went dark. He had broken his neck on the window.

-Author Notes-

This was intended to be an amusing yet dark parable about self-image. It is pretty obvious that the bird was only seeing his reflection and perceiving it as hostile (which really does happen.) But there are some people that can look in the mirror and truly despise what they see. I sometimes think this is why people go out of their way to change their appearance. It is almost like a mask that makes them feel more comfortable when they have to look at themselves.

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Check out my ebook "Wild" available for free at Barnes and Noble! Just CLICK HERE!


Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Calvin Blue

"Calvin Blue" by T.K. Wade (As told by Petalweight the bard.)

This mouse… This mouse that follows me about! Who is this mouse that lingers on my tail closer than all these followers who surround me?! We call him Calvin Blue–at least that’s what he tells us! His second name is fake, I say! It is the sky… the color of the sky and the invention he wishes us all to believe! Do you believe it?! Not I!

Who is this Calvin Blue–who doth travel in my footsteps when he surely has better tasks to conduct?! What a loafer he is! It is the easiest thing in the world to follow Petalweight to this city and that, so really I do not see his purpose! Might it be simply unsullied admiration of this bard?! Well now! A mystery is solved!

This mouse has parchment coming out of his trousers! And what is written upon them?! Nothing short of genius, I assure you! For upon those tomes are the very words you hear from me from dawn to dusk! Perhaps, this mouse is no fool if he aspires to write such wondrous words down, but ho! Does he not have a life beyond copying me and changing his second name to a color?! Indeed, I believe so! Good on him, I say!

Look at him! Look as he write down the very words I am speaking this moment! A striking look of determination upon his face! Ha! He dares not publish this! I could say anything, and you would write it down! Ah! But thou shall not sully the bard! For all I say is golden! Have at thee, sir!

Look at this mouse, and know truly of Calvin Blue! For all I have said of him tonight, he is a fine mouse of Murridae! He rises to such challenges with the mettle of the finest soldier! His pen is his sword, and his mind rushes like the beat of the hare! Write on, young fool! Carry on with all that inspires you! Write on!

-Glossary-

Calvin Blue: Calvin is a famed author who--for a time--followed Petalweight around making a record of his best poetry. He is actually the "pseudo-author" of the book these soliloquies originate from (of which I am the true creator.)

Mouse: The dominant speices of people who live in the country of Murridae.

Murridae: The country where Petalweight is from. It consists of mainly mice, jerboas, rats, and capybaras.


Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Rodent Spotlight: Spiny Mouse

Hi! I'm Buster, and I am a spiny mouse. Before we begin, let me just get something straight. I'm not your friend, and you don't know me. Us spiny mice are as tribal as they come. We live, eat, and fight for our brothers. That's just how we are, and we don't really care much for civilization.

The reason we are called spiny mice is cause we got these totally dangerous-looking hair spikes on our backs. YEEAAH! Look at them! Those spikes mean danger! Well... they aren't actually dangerous--just pointy--but that doesn't mean you shouldn't fear them! It's a sign of our entirely uncivilized lifestyle, and you should respect it!

I heard that there were some humans keeping us as pets. I guess that's okay if they wanna feed and take care of us, but still, it doesn't mean they really control us. We're wild, man! First chance they stop caring for us, we are so out of there! No loyalty but to the other "spinies!" YEEAAH!

I've seen these other poser mice trying to spike their fur. It's really kind of pathetic. Us spiny mice are born this way, and we don't need to pretend to be what we are. These spikes on my back are a symbol of my individuality and my belief in personal freedom! YEEAAH! Spiny mice forever!

You may or may not find us in fiction. I don't really read. I'm more into expressing myself to all the spiny girls I meet in my tribe. Either way, there really SHOULD be spiny mice in stories--only because we are so cool. What do ya think? Guess what! I don't care! I'm wild! Hear my spiny mouse roar! SQUEAK! Whoops. I should have thought that one through. Well, anyways, I got stuff I gotta do. See ya!

Thank you for reading this blog. If you enjoyed it, you can comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaroo.com. YEEAAH!



Thursday, March 19, 2015

Trash

"Trash" by T.K. Wade (From the pages of "Wild.")

It was dark, but that was pretty normal. As a general rule, kitchens were generally very dark at three o’clock in the morning. Ned and Sara had to be quiet. Raccoons were never welcome in places like these.

Ned peeked around the corner and then looked back at his wife. “I think everyone’s still asleep. Looks like that little window-slamming incident didn’t draw any attention, dear.”

Sara blushed. “Come on, that could have happen to anybody.”

“You see, this is why I never bring you anywhere.”

“But Ned, we never go out anymore. I’m starting to worry about our relationship. I mean… a dumpster here and there is one thing, but I just wanted to go somewhere special for our anniversary.”

Ned sighed. She had a point. Still, it did not take a lot of coordination to open a dumpster, and that was something she never really had. But it had always been her flaws that made her so endearing. He hugged her and said, “Baby, don’t worry. Tonight, we are gonna have a special dinner–just you and me. I’m talking about the most high-class cuisine in the entire town.”

Her eyes lighted up with joy. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, and it’s all for you.”

“Where is it?”

He cracked a devilish smile and signaled over to one of the cabinets. “I bet you never saw a trash bin inside of a cabinet before.” He opened the door to show her. True enough, there it was.

Sara was amazed. “You’re right. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“See, these humans are so wealthy that they even store their garbage in high-class surroundings. Check it out: the bag is even scented.” Both raccoons sniffed the air and breathed out a sigh of lemon-scented bliss.

Sara blushed. “Oh, Ned. This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. I hope it never ends.”

“It hasn’t even started yet. Ready to dig in?”

“You bet.”

Both raccoons grabbed the top of the bin and tipped it over onto the floor of the kitchen. An array of discarded foodstuffs poured out from inside. The raccoons wasted no time in crawling into the overturned container and eating whatever they could find.

Sara was slurping at the inside of a peanut butter jar, which also had some discarded Chinese food in it. “This is amazing; it tastes so fresh.”

Ned was busy trying to stick his head into a potato chip bag. There were some old beans and hotdog bits inside. “Only the best for you, my dear.”

Sara popped her head out of the jar and contentedly chewed on the hardened, fried chicken bits. “Honey, that baggy thing is making a lot of noise.”

“But it’s full of such wonderful things!”

“More wonderful than me?”

Ned pulled the bag from off of his head. His face just as messy as her’s. “Nothing could be more wonderful than you.”

The lights suddenly came on. Both raccoons looked up from there yummy treats to see a human woman scream at the top of her lungs. Both raccoons made a dash for the window, but the floor was too slippery from the spillage. They all just randomly slid around in a complete lack of coordination. The mess was only being spread around even more by their failed escape plan.

Suddenly, the man of the house arrived with the mother of all raccoon-dispensing weapons: a broom. Smack after smack, the raccoons were pelted by the horrible tool. The two of them finally made their way back to the window and crawled out into the yard.

After being sure they were safe, the husband and wife held each other while panting heavily from the excitement. Ned finally asked, “So, was it everything you hoped it would be?”

She giggled and kissed him on the lips. “Of course, it was. Everywhere is heaven as long as I’m with you.” The two hugged and ran home to sleep for the rest of the night.

-Author Notes-

This was not so much a deep tale as it was just a simple story about a married couple from the perspective of raccoons. Part of this probably stemmed from my love of the show “Mad About You.” I know that most of these stories are about more meaningful things, but I guess that I am just a sucker for cute stuff.

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Check out my ebook "Wild" available for free at Barnes and Noble! Just CLICK HERE!


Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Beyond Youth

"Beyond Youth" by T.K. Wade (As told by Petalweight the bard.)

What a tiny thing I was. A delicate urchin from Nestle who did prance about freely as doth the wind. Untethered gambols were my mission in early life, and I mingled with those of similar ilk. We all danced in celebration of the Great One and found solace in his image, for were not all jerboas of his making? Ah! But to be young again! To dance, to play, to skip about for no other reason but that we should indulge in the act!

To be young and innocent is a freedom not forever retained! But to grow and learn of the ways of manhood mingles one with an unyielding charge that he must see beyond himself! Tis a duty with no easy success, for thy heart must first change, and thy will must last a lifetime! Take heed that a single effort to placate Mersis is a folly and not to be sanctioned as a reality! No! It is an insult!

When we are struck by the firm blow of insight, we must then choose! To care for your fellow man or to cast them aside like so many childish whims! To put the latter to action is to remain trapped within the soiled innocence of childhood! But alas! It is not the same! To be born a child is impersonal, but to rise to adulthood only to cast it aside is madness! It is also cruel, and those who are cruel cannot know the joys of life in truth!

Did I not cast aside my indifference nigh the war’s meridian? Indeed! I was no friend towards rat or capybara in those former years, but to forsake those who bind together our fragile lives for the love of king and country is a crime I shall not commit! Hear me, for I am of Murridae! The Great Jerboa be damned if I must cast slander to those who fight in my name!

And then until this moment do I sing out to those who will hear me! I must cry out my joy, for it is only joy of which I know in truth! Fear not for the toils of life, but that thou must only strive for good in this world! Shake thy hands at the gods if they prohibit thee from accomplishing it! These are the words of Petalweight, and wherever I roam, I chose to be an inspiration to all who hear me!

-Glossary-

Nestle: A city in the country of Murridae. It is almost entirely populated by the jerboa race.

The Great One/The Great Jerboa: The Great Jerboa is the sole religious focus of the jerboa race. The jerboas are monotheistic and believe in one god who represents them. In truth, The Great Jerboa is real but is simply among the many other gods. He is called Irritum and is the god of vanity.

Jerboa: A rodent with a long tail that has a cute puff on the end. Petalweight is a jerboa. They are one of the many rodent races living in his country.

Rats and Capybaras: Two rodent races living in Murridae. Rats are the soldier class, and the capybaras are giants who love war.

Mersis: The mouse goddess of mercy and compassion.

Murridae: The country of which Petalweight lives. It is entirely populated by rodents.


Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Rodent Spotlight: Gundi

I recently discovered a new addition to my "rodentia obscuria" collection. Have you ever heard of a rodent called the gundi? The gundi is a tubby African rodent with unusually rounded ears. They don't really live in a lot of places which may account for their obscure nature. I still found them interesting.

They live in some very hot environments, and because of this, they have to constantly worry about their water intake. Oddly enough, they actually never drink at all. That's right! If you were to provide a thirsty gundi with a cup of water, he would put up his nose to you. Why? Because it was in a cup! To a gundi, a cup is a form of insult, for their water must be presented in a far more appetizing manner. In this case, in the form of food.

Gundis get all of their water from plant life, and there is no exception to the rule. Talk about picky! The rodent is pretty much forced to find an area teaming with plants in order to make a living. You know what they say: location, location, location!

Another thing that I found gundis to be quite the professional at... is lounging. Oh! Gundis are marvelous loungers! They always pick the perfect spot and just let their fat rolls plop down wherever they may. I am not quite sure how this tradition got started, but my theory is that since their little bodies are responsible for carrying all that excess water, it must sometimes get unbearably heavy. One day, an exhausted gundi found out that if he stopped walking and let gravity take over, it made for good relief. But like everything, once one person find something nice, everyone else had to get in on it too.

As far as I could tell, there have been no appearances of the gundi in fiction. I was only able to find one fan drawing of them, and it wasn't even very well-drawn. The closest that I could figure would be a lazy desert people who are not very agreeable. They keep everything close-nit and refuse social contact with people outside of themselves. Why would they want to mingle with a "cup-drinker" anyways? Really... with picky rodents like this, there is little you can do to help them. Might as well leave them to their little section of the desert.

Thank you for reading my blog. If you enjoyed it, you can comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaro.com. Flop.




Friday, March 13, 2015

"Chicken"

"Chicken" by T.K. Wade (From the pages of "Wild.")

Scrit and Scrap were known for their antics–not that it was an unusual thing to see a squirrel or two dashing across the street. But these two had made a game out of it.

“You’re gonna get yourselves killed,” the old squirrel would say. Mr. Acorn was always just there to annoy them. They never listened to him though.

Scrit was on his mark and awaiting the next vehicle. “I think I see one coming!”

Scrap was on the opposite side of the street. He could see the sedan on its way. “Yep!” shouted the friend. “It’s heading your way a little faster than the other ones! Better not screw it up!”

“I’m ready! I’m ready!” the eager squirrel shouted in return. He had only done this a few time. He wanted to be like one of the all-time greatest chicken dashers, like the great Chipper Scram Scram the Third. Some even said that the famous squirrel had moved up to the four- and five-lane highways.

As the sedan was nearly about to fly on past, Scrit bolted across the street. The driver slammed on the brakes and turned sharply to the left. Scrit could actually feel the car passing just behind him as he jumped up onto the other side of the street. He screamed, “What a rush!” Scrap took him by the paws and the two danced in a circle to celebrate the close call.

Mr. Acorn scurried up to the two idiots. He gruffly cleared his throat and said, “It almost ran him straight over! Are you both out of your minds?!”

The two younger squirrels blew a raspberry at him. Scrap said, “You have no idea what it’s like to have fun.”

Mr. Acorn replied, “I know what its like to grow old. If you two keep this up, that’s one thing you’ll never get to see.”

Scrit was not really interested in what he had to say. “I heard that one time a squirrel got one of them cars to go right off the road. If that happens to me, I’ll be famous!”

The old squirrel sighed and shook his head. As he returned to his tree, he was reminded of the time that he did silly things like that. What on earth was he thinking?

Scrap got prepared for his turn. A blue-colored minivan was coming down the road pretty fast. “You got to time it just right for these big ones. If just one tire hits, it’s all over.”

“Are you scared?” asked the newcomer.

“Nah. I do this all the time. Just keep practicing, and someday, you’ll be just as cool as me.”

“I wanna be cool,” said Scrit with a face that oozed a lust for fame.

At just the last moment, Scrap dashed out into the street. The minivan made no attempt to stop like the sedan; however, the squirrel still made it to the other side in one piece. He shouted, “Piece of cake!”

Scrit excitedly took his mark. “I’m not gonna be afraid! I’m gonna be the best!”

“That’s the spirit! And here comes one now!”

Scrit hopped up and down out of pure excitement. The truck was moving pretty fast. How cool would it be if he could get it to plow right into one of the houses? That would be hilarious!

Trying to time it just right, Scrit dashed back out into the street; however, he suddenly stopped half way and fell onto his belly. The truck passed on by.

Scrap covered his mouth in shock. Scrit peered up at his friend and asked, “Why did I stop?”
Scrap pointed. “Your tail! Look at your tail?”

Scrit looked back. His tail was completely flattened into the pavement. He was just in too much shock to feel it. He whined, “I can’t move! I’m stuck to the road! Scrap, come help me!”

“I can’t! There’s another one coming!”

“But I can’t move! Scrap!”

“I can’t!”

“Scrap!”

Scrap covered his eyes and heard the resulting thump, thump of a car running over his friend. After taking a peek through his fingers, it was now painfully evident that his friend had been smashed into the asphalt.

He took a moment and just gawked at the scene. The poor kid; he just wanted to be famous. However, after a few moments, the squirrel suddenly asked himself, “Now, who the heck am I gonna play with?!”

-Author Notes-

Sometimes adulthood is the only thing that can save a kid. This parable shows how children tend to act on impulse rather than good judgment. The sad thing is that some people never really grow up; I’ve seen adults do things just as bad.

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Check out my ebook "Wild" available for free at Barnes and Noble! Just CLICK HERE!