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Polly Never Be Wantin’ a Cracker.

Polly Never Be Wantin’ a Cracker

By Maggie

 T’ life o’ a parrot ain’t what it’s cracked up t’ be. All day, ev’ry day, it’s sittin’ on Cap’n’s shoulder and eatin’ crackers. Me name be Polly, in case ye was wonderin’. Yup, ye heard Polly, as in “Polly want a cracker?” It gets old real fast. Aye, it’s very novel for a couple o’ days, but it wears off easy.

All ye human folk surely don’t bother with parrots. T’ crew don’t ponder ’bout the fact that I could go on ’bout Shakespeare if I a’wished to. T’ silly pirates just don’t bother with a bird like meself. I guess that makes sense, what with tryin’ t’ plunder ships and get their booty and stuff it up their sleeves and in their pockets and down their boots (that be why ye call the stuff “booty,” ya know). Ahoy! Ahoy! all that jazz.

Parrots be a lot more intelligent than your average pirate, me t’inks. A pirate gets his fill o’ grog every evenin’, while we birdfolk stay in our right minds and feast on crackers and seawater. A pirate cuts off an arm when he’s angry, while we birds just peck at t’ shoulder or leave a little somethin’ on their head. A pirate wages war against ships, while we peaceful parrots just stay in t’ cap’n’s quarters just off the starboard deck and peck at leftover bread. Really, t’ next time I hear t’ words “Polly” and “cracker” spoken t’gether, I’ll give them a peckin’ they won’t forget.

Ahoy now, what be t’problem? T’crew is a’gatherin’ at t’wheel! Me be hearin’ naught but shoutin’ words. I try ‘n translate ’em into regular English, but ‘t’ain’t workin’ proper-like.

I fine’ly hear an intelligible phrasin’: “Land ho! Land ho!”

I fly on o’er to see what be troublin’ t’shipmates. True to t’shouts, there be an isle ’bout a nautical mile off. A crowd of landlubbers (me can tell by t’clothes) be a’swimmin in its waters.

B’fore long, we be near reachin’ t’isle. I see food – bread and coconuts and other wond’rous delicacies be sittin’ there. ‘Bout a minute from low’rin’ t’anchor, me flies to t’isle.

Me wings be a’hurtin’ by the time I be reachin’ ground, but never such a feast me eyes hast laid upon! I gobble down the delicious bread, sour grapes, and sweet berries, with sips o’ t’coconut milk in between.

“POLLY!”

Cap’n be behind me. I stop gettin’ my fill o’goods as Cap’n stares me down. His glare be a’worryin’ me. What’ll ol’ Cap’n do t’me this time? Will he be dismissin’ it just this’n time?

“Save some for us, me parrot Polly.” Cap’n be a grinnin’, an’ that be a good sign.

“Polly wan’ a cracker?” Cap’n offers a cracker to me.

If it hadn’t been for his forgiveness o’ me hoggin’ the food, I’da pecked his hand to death. But just this once, I take the cracker and return to his shoulder.

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