Rody Lamoree had dealt with a lot of nonsense in his life, but nothing-*nothing*-had prepared him for the verbal abuse hurled at him on a daily basis by a bird. And not just any bird-Vincent's pet African Grey parrot, Noir.
If anyone had asked Rody what his breaking point in life would be, he would have guessed it'd be something normal, like losing a fight with a broken vending machine, or dealing with a horrible customer. But no, it was a two-foot-tall feathered monster with a Napoleon complex and a mouth like a sailor.
Noir sat perched on its stand, beady eyes focused on Rody like a sniper zeroing in on a target.
Across the room, Vincent was blissfully unaware, humming to himself as he made breakfast in the kitchen. "Everything okay in there?" he called.
"*Fuckin' bald-ass loser,*" Noir muttered under its breath in an impressively accurate mimicry of Rody's voice.
Rody's eye twitched. He ran a hand through his very *real*, very *full* head of hair. "Vincent!" he called, voice strained.
"Oui?" Vincent turned around, smiling sweetly. "Is Noir behaving?"
Noir puffed out its chest, putting on the world's best impression of a choir boy. "*Hi, Vincent! Love you!*"
Rody's jaw hit the floor. "Did you *hear* that?! It just called me bald! And I'm *not* bald!"
Vincent laughed softly, waving a hand. "Oh, Rody, Noir's just playing. He loves you, you know."
"*Yeah, like I love food poisoning,*" Noir quipped, deadpan, in a perfect imitation of Vincent's voice. The bird quickly shifted back into angel mode when Vincent turned around, fluffing up its feathers like it had done *nothing* wrong.
Rody could feel his blood pressure rising. *Oh, it's on now.*
"Noir, you're *this* close to becoming a pair of feathered earmuffs," Rody growled under his breath.
Noir leaned in on its perch, locking eyes with Rody. "*Rody's an ugly bitch,*" it hissed.
Rody's jaw dropped. "You little-!"
"Hmm?" Vincent looked up again, blinking. "What was that, mon amour?"
"Nothing," Rody seethed, glaring at Noir. "Just having a little *chat* with your sweet, perfect bird." Noir puffed up, staring Rody down as if daring him to make a move.
"*I'm too good for you! Dumbass!*" Noir squawked, a smug look in its tiny bird eyes. The parrot flapped its wings dramatically as if it were performing some grand Shakespearean insult.
Rody crossed his arms, his mouth twitching. "You little *shit,* you're lucky you've got wings. I swear to God-"
"*Swear to God, Rody's bald!*" the bird repeated, its voice dripping with mockery. "*Shiny, shiny dome!*"
"OH, COME ON!" Rody shouted, pointing furiously at the bird. "I am NOT bald! I literally have *hair!*" He ran his fingers through his wild auburn curls in frustration. "See?! This is hair!"
Noir clucked its tongue. "*Wig,*" it whispered, as if it were revealing the biggest secret of the century.
Rody gaped. "Did you just-"
"*Wig!*" Noir repeated louder, this time throwing in a little cackle.
"I swear to God, Vincent," Rody began, storming toward the kitchen, "if I catch that bird one more time with these insults, it's going to *meet* the bottom of my shoe."
Vincent chuckled softly. "Noir's just being playful, Rody."
Rody whirled around to point at the parrot, who was now standing on one leg, looking far too proud of itself. "Playful?! It just accused me of being *bald* again. That's like the fifth time today!"
