Carl didn't know what he would have done if he had had to listen to
one more minute of that maddening parrot with its infernal squawking.
"Get off of your duff Carl, get off of your duff!" Frederick used to
say to him every single time he tried to relax in his favorite chair
with a cold beer.
"Don't slouch in the seat Carl, don't slouch in the seat!"
Of all the things Carl's mother could have left him in her will, she
had to leave him Frederick. That horrible parrot. Carl remembered
how his mother used to call Frederick her best friend, her real life
time companion. Carl had no idea how long parrots were supposed to
live, but he was certain that Frederick should have died years ago.
Carl had taken it into his home, because it seemed like the decent
thing to do after his mother died. He could see his old mother right
now wringing her hands over what was to become of Frederick when she
would no longer be around to look after him. Of course Carl hadn't
counted on the screeching and the nagging. It was eerie really, like
a piece of his mother still lived in his house with him.
"Carl you're a real slouch. A real slouch."
Day in, day out, Frederick grated on his nerves. He couldn't even
watch his TV in peace anymore or take a nap without Frederick
interrupting. So today, he had taken Frederick into the bathroom.
Carl tried to do it as quickly as possible, but somehow all his
feathers got everywhere. He had wrapped up the body in a bunch of
garbage bags and put it in the trash can outside, but the house reeked
as though Frederick was still inside. That was ok by Carl. Just as
long as he had his silence. His silence and his Television and his
chair. That was all Carl had ever really wanted.
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