The Parrot

    Ralph and Polly Hallwell-Berry, a very happily married couple, liked having daytime sex. Ralph farmed a small piece of land near Suffolk in East Anglia. Ralph would often come for lunch and find Polly standing at the door of their comfortable cottage in a French Maid costume or something of that sort.

     When they indulged in a little afternoon delight they would often become quite raucous and loud. This presented something of a problem because they also had parrot, also named Polly (Don't ask, it's a long and boring story) who repeated almost everything she heard during the day. All you would have to do is say, "And what does Polly say?" and the bird would loudly recite what she had learned.

       Polly, the wife, was quite nervous because the bird cage was only a few feet away from their bedroom door. So, when Ralph came home one afternoon when a bouquet of fresh cut flowers, Polly ordered her compliant husband to place a cover over the cage. Polly was a pretty, rosy cheeked farm girl of the buxom variety, but she wasn't by anybody's standards, the sharpest knife in the drawer.

     And it turns out that she had good reason to be worried because that very afternoon, Vicar Morton Cawley and his aide Sheila Maxwell-Simmons showed up at her farmhouse door after Polly and her  husband had engaged in a particularly passionate bout of love-making. She answered the door with cheeks aflame.

     Ralph came around the corner after feeding the ducks and chickens to see his wife talking with the Vicar and Mrs. Maxwell-Simmons on the front steps.

      "Good Afternoon, Vicar, Mrs. Simmons, to what do we owe the pleasure of this very pleasant surprise. He nodded to the assistant and shook the hand of the Vicar.

           "Good Day, yourself Ralph. Sheila and myself were going round the parish speaking to our membership about coming together this Wednesday next to talk about the Spring fundraiser. This year, you know, our goal is to put a new roof on the main chapel.

            "Yes," said Mrs. Maxwell-Simmons, "Since your farm is in the center of things. We were wondering if you would consider hosting the gathering?"

             Ralph grinned, "Well, it's jolly-oh-fine with me, but I'll need the approval of the Missus." With that he looked at his wife.

               The Vicar encouraged spoke, "Yes, well what does Miss Polly say?"

           From inside the house a voice suddenly rang out, "Oh, Daddy, Yes! Oh Yes, right there! Right now. Give it to me, Daddy. Harder! No Harder! Great God Almighty." The last three words were emitted in a kind of a scream that lasted for about twenty seconds then tailed off as if to announce an ending of something.

             Needless to say, they were all mortified. After a moment, the Vicar saved the day by shaking Ralph's hand and saying, "We'll take that as a yes then." Then him and Mrs. Maxwell-Simmons waddled off their heads shaking and whispering as they went.

        The next day, Ralph moved the the parrot's cage to the other side of the room near a window that opened out above the duck pen.

          A couple of weeks later, Farming Inspector Twillinger and two of his assistants, Mr. Budwig and Mr. James showed up to do a bit of snooping about. This was actually the description of their jobs, to snoop about and cause problems for the farmers there about.

           " Hullo there, Mr. Hallwell-Berry we're here to inspect your cages and your pens. If it's not too much of an inconvenience, we'd like to get it done forthrightly. Tottenham and Liverpool on the telly tonight, you know."

            Ralph was annoyed but too good natured to express it, so he led them to the back of the cottage where the chickens, the cows, and the ducks were kept.

             "This here's where we pin the ducks."

             Budwig and James took out their notepads and started writing and Twillinger opened up his the case of his glasses and perched on his nose. About the same time, Polly the parrot started quacking in her cage which was next to the opened window."

               "What, pray tell, is that?" asked Twillinger. 

              "That is my parrot, Polly"

              "Sounds like a duck."

               "May sound like a duck but it's na a duck."

               Twillinger walked closer to the opened window and stuck his head into the house. "We seem to have a problem here, Sir."

                "And what problem would that be?" answered Ralph.

                "That cage is an inappropriate size for a duck."

                "But I told you, it is not a bleeding duck."

                  Twillinger said nothing but motioned for his aides to come near him. They engaged in a whispered conversation, but Ralph could hear everything they said.

                  "Mr. James what sound does a duck make?"

              " Well, I'm no expert on these matters, but I suspect they say something to the effect of Quack."

                  "Thank you, James. And you, Budwig?"

            "I studied Advanced Mathematics, myself, but if I was compelled to give an answer, I would have to say Quack also, or maybe even Quack Quack."    

               Mr. Twillinger thought for a moment, placing his finger to his chin, " I'm sorry, Ralph, but I'm going to have to write you a citation for illegally harboring a duck."

                     "Illegally harboring a Duck! You idiot! That's na a duck. That's a sodding parrot!"

               "Now, now, no need to be abusive. We reached a consensus and the three of us distinctly heard the alleged duck make the requisite noise that a duck would make given the circumstances."

                  Before Ralph could answer, Budwig, who had wandered off, emerged from inside the barn, "Chief, you must come see what I have found."

             The other three quickly walked into the barn where Budwig was pointing a large cage containing a mother fox and four newly born fox pups.

                 "And how do you explain this?" Twillinger said officiously.

              "Explain this!" roared Ralph. "I captured a fox trying to eat my bleeding chickens."

            " Mr. Hallwell-Berry, I have warned you about your use of profanity!"

                "No, You haven't! You said na one word."

                "How do you explain the pups being in this cage?"

                "She must have been pregnant when I caged her."

             "Aha! So you're admitting to caging a mother fox and her pups!"

               "She was going to eat my bleeding chickens! I didn't know she was having critters!"

             " I'm so thoroughly fed up with you and your type. This here fox is one of God's creatures and deserves a far better life than this."

              "And, my chickens don't?" screamed Ralph.

           They argued back and forth like this for about five minutes more. Then they walked back toward the duck cage where the argument had began.

            "Well, I will have to take you in you know. Harboring ducks and caging fox pups like you would a common criminal are serious offenses around here, you know."

           Ralph was beside himself. He turned fire engine red and lost control of his breathing for a minute. He bent over and placed his hands on his knees and tried to get his breathing under control. After a few minutes, he straightened up and muttered, "It's not like I invited the things in to eat my chickens."

             Budwig produced a pair of handcuffs from his coat pocket. He had gotten them as a present ten years before when he first had joined  Her Majesty's Agricultural Service. This was the first time he had ever used them, and he was surprised to discover, that it had given him a bit of an erection. He strategically placed his coat to where he hoped the others would not notice. Then he placed Ralph's hands behind his back.

       Ralph suddenly remembered that Polly his wife, visiting her mother, would not know where he was. "I need to speak to my wife,"

         The three inspectors looked at each other suspiciously. Then James spoke, "I suppose we should, you know. It's only right."

           Twillinger snapped, "What is only right, you blithering idiot?"

           James snapped back, " To see what Polly says."

          From the opened window, a voice screamed out, " Oh Daddy! Oh, Daddy! Give it to me hard! Right here! Right now! Harder! G-r-e-a-t G-o-d A-l-m-i-g-h-t-y!"

        It was six years later when Ralph was finally released. He returned to his farm. Polly had gone. She left him because of the scandal. Harboring ducks and caging fox pups was bad, but engaging in sex with parrot that identified as a duck was a far worse transgression. The judge had thrown the book at him.

      Of course, Polly knew the truth, but she could never bring herself to publicly admit to the carnal lust that started the whole thing off. She went to see Ralph once or twice, but eventually she up ran away with Twillinger and moved to small beachside cottage in Portugal which he had bought with the bonus awarded him for arresting Ralph.

      The cottage, once a happy place, was old and deserted, the paint peeling, and the roof partially caved in. It was dark and gloomy and spider webs hung from the places where Polly had once hung her pots of fresh cut flowers. Ralph sat down on the porch and hung his head. Not long after, he heard a noise and looked up in the rafters of the overhanging porch roof.

          Polly the parrot was there. She looked a lot different, having lost a lot of feathers to age and an eye to an angry cat. Ralph didn't say a word. He just took out his pipe, stuffed, and lit it.

      He hung his head again but he heard someone whistling approaching which cause him to look up. He saw a long haired shabbily dressed stranger walking down the lane toward the cottage.

            It was Jesus. Yeah, that Jesus. He didn't look anything like the Jesus found in church pictures, but more like Warren Oates in the movie  Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia. He didn't appear in a flash or anything like that, just kind of ambled up and sat down next to Ralph. Ralph just knew. He nodded.

            After several minutes of silence, Ralph broke down and asked, "Why? Why here? Why now?"

              Jesus smiled and said, "Just seemed like a good time. I tried to speak at Cambridge and these crazy people started calling me names and throwing rocks; they said I was a lot of things that I am actually not."

            Ralph smiled back and offered his pipe. "Believe me; I know the feeling. What next?"

             "Don't rightly know. Thinking about traveling around some, checking out the lay of the land. See if there's anybody out there worth saving. How bout you? You care to join me? Looking to get a new posse together."

               Ralph took the pipe back and thought a minute. He chuckled. Jesus looked at him with questioning eyes.

                 " Aw. I was just thinking there was a time I'd have to ask my wife." He looked down at his feet. "I'd had to ask what Polly says."

                  A voice came from the rafters, "Ahem!"