Red Wings And Trousers

That one, says Terence.

Yuck, says Feebee. It's got a bald face.

It's got red wings and trousers, says Terence.

Okay says Nina. Let's ask it.

They approach the young Pesquet's parrot, from below.

Hoi! says Terence. Would you like to be rescued?

No, says the parrot. I'm famous here.

Why? asks Terence.

I don't have to answer your questions, says the young Pesquet's parrot.

You answered the first one, says Terence.

This is not going well.

A blue parrot flutters down to explain to Terence why the young Pesquet's parrot is famous.

He fell out of his nest as a baby, says the blue parrot. And he climbed up again, all by himself. Since then he has shown a surprising maturity. And he speaks pidgin.

How does that go? asks Nina.

Don't ask mi, says the blue parrot. "Mi", did you get that? That's pidgin.

The young Pesquet's parrot has been sitting patiently on the branch of his palm tree (the one he fell out of), showing his customary maturity.

Let's not rescue him, says Feebee. Let's rescue the pretty blue one.

No, thank you. We like it here, says the blue one. We have the world's best climate. We call it Eternal Spring.

Okay, says Nina. The rescue is off. Let's go and get lunch.

Wah! says Terence.

The young Pesquet's parrot looks pityingly at Terence.

Terence glowers.

Wait till they make you ride a bicycle, says Terence.

What? says the Pesquet. No one can make me ride a bicycle.

Nina saw a parrot riding a bicycle, says Feebee.

I did, says Nina. Right here in Parque Loro. It was years ago though.

There you are then, says the Pesquet. They probably don't do it now.

You're not the type, says the blue one.  You're too big, and your features are ugly.

The Pesquet's world picture in which he is renowned for his olympic-class tree climbing skills and surprising maturity is rocked slightly.

Is there another side to this Paradise? Is there a class of small parrots with cute features that are being taken down from their trees and trained to ride bicycles?

I'll come to lunch with you, if you don't mind, says the Pesquet. We need to speak further.

In pidgin, says Feebee. Mi mi.

That's not pidgin, says the Pesquet. This is pidgin. I bin go.

I bin go, says Terence. I bin go! This is the best language!

It's called Tok Pisin, says the Pesquet. I taught myself. My family is originally from New Guinea. Em tok pisin.

This is too complex for Terence.

I get it, says Nina. They talk pidgin. It's so beautifully simple. Can you get out, Pesquet's parrot?

Anytime I like, says the Pesquet. Now let us discuss how to end this dreadful bicycle training cruelty, over lunch. Coming?

Of course they are coming.

Em bin go.