Possession Dispossession

He's got TWO! says Terence.

Try and think like a grown up, says Sweezus.

Terence tries.

Saint Roley has a Mia and a Savannah. That's not fair. But Saint Roley is Terence's parrot.

If my parrot owns two things, says Terence, they're really mine, right?

Yep, says Sweezus.

So I've got four things, says Terence.

Pretty much, says Sweezus.

Terence stands up in his seat.

This is weird. He can see the head of Saint Roley.

He taps it.

What? says Saint Roley.

How come you're up so high? asks Terence.

I'm standing on my toys, says Saint Roley. My Mia and my Savannah.

Which one is on the bottom? asks Terence.

Mia, says Saint Roley.

They're actually both mine, says Terence.

I don't think so, says Saint Roley.

Because you're my parrot, says Terence.

That's not what it says on my Parrot Passport, says Saint Roley.

Terence sits down, temporarily defeated.

Saint Roley continues standing.

There is a good reason Savannah is on top. She's a grey fluffy elephant, and her trunk sets Saint Roley off balance when she's on the bottom.

There is also a good reason why Saint Roley needs extra height at the moment.

Gaius is boning him up on the Far Eastern Curlew.

So, says Gaius. What do we know?

They have the longest beak ever, says Saint Roley.

What shape is it? asks Gaius.

Curving downwards, says Saint Roley.

And what is that like? asks Gaius.

Like their population numbers, says Saint Roley. Sad to say, but it's an apt image.

It is indeed, agrees Gaius.

Saint Roley will be a great asset, thinks Gaius. He sees the big picture.

Terence is sitting solidly, thinking.

Somebody else owns Saint Roley.

Probably a grown up. Everyone has to be owned by a grown up.

The flight attendant brings Sweezus his breakfast. Yogurt, scrambled egg, blueberry pancake, a croissant with butter and jam.

And then Arthur's breakfast.

Arthur wants his seat back.

Terence has to go back to the seat that he shares with Saint Roley.

Here, little dude, says Sweezus. Take my jam pack.

Red jam!

If Terence has to be owned by someone he hopes it is Sweezus.

The seat is crowded with cushiony toys, as well as Saint Roley.

Terence squeezes in with his Mia and his jam pack.

Saint Roley is practising a mournful cry: Cuuuurlew!

And Gaius is saying: Well done.