My Original Mouth

How long do I have to wear this fake beak? asks Mouldy.

Until we get back to Australia, says Gaius.

You shouldn't have glued it on, says Mouldy. I could have had the photo and then taken the beak off until I had to show the passport.

Does it bother you? asks Gaius.

Yes, says Mouldy. What if I want to use my original mouth?

Yes, says Terence. He might want to kiss someone

More to the point, I might want to brush my teeth, says Mouldy.

Before you kiss someone, says Terence.

I doubt if Mouldy will be wanting to kiss anyone before we arrive at the airport, says Gaius. He will just have to put up with the beak.

Yes, you will, Mouldy, says Terence. I have to put up with mine.

You don't have one, says Mouldy.

My claw, says Terence. It needs putting up with.

He raises his sunflower seed claw which Gaius recently glued on with fish glue.

YAY! It's sprouting!

Look at THIS! cries Terence.

Well, says Gaius. I didn't expect that!

Doesn't bode well, says Isidore.

No, agrees Gaius.

But they say nothing further about what a sprouting claw means for the future.

No need to alarm Terence.

I"ll go and see about the parrot passports, says Isidore.

And I must make a few phone calls, says Gaius.

Terence and Mouldy look at one another.

Cheer me up, says Mouldy.

Okay, says Terence. I'll make up a song about your beak.

But that's what's depressing me, says Mouldy.

Shut up and listen, says Terence.

A long silence and then......

La la la three good things
About Mouldy's beak
His voice is longer
His smell is stronger.
If you kiss him
His knees will go weak.

That's two good things, says Mouldy.

Three, says Terence.

Knees will go weak, says Mouldy. That's not a good thing.

I never said it was, says Terence.

You just did, says Mouldy.

That was the SONG, says Terence.