The French Crow

I first met Pierre when one morning I woke up with him in my room on my bed. He nipped off my right middle finger and ate it. Though appalled and frightened, I gave chase as I did not know what else I could do to get my finger back. Pierre flew out of my window, and before I knew it, I was flying too. That was when I realised that I was in a dream.

When Pierre finally roosted in a tree that was full of crows, and that was typically in the middle of a car park overseeing polished cars, I approached him and said,

"Hey, crow, can you give me my finger back? Or else I won't be able to flip people off with my right hand. Sure, I suppose I could use the one on my left hand, but having the option to use the right hand, or to use both hands to emphasize my point sometimes, well, is important to me." I paused to ponder about my options as Pierre replied,

"Je m'en fous. Je ne veux que chier."

Wow, I thought, a French crow. How curious. I didn't even know I understood French. But the limitless power of the unconscious is always surprising, and I understood that he said something rude enough to make me realise that I might be able to flip people off with my right hand after all... I just had to grab him and snap his smart alec head off and attach it to where my middle finger was. Then, when I have to flip the birdie off, it'll be an elaborate, nice, and feathery display. With any luck, the smart mouth would crow some French for a dramatic effect and an uncalled for touch of act class. And it's black. It'll match my hair.

Ever since I attached his head to my hand (with the face and beak rightfully facing outwards, if you were wondering), Pierre became very becoming, at least to me. I've named him Pierre, after Pierre Corneille, who is somebody I didn't know I knew of, and because "Pierre" seems to be the most intuitive name suitable for any French character. He gets along very well with my left middle finger, whom we've decided to name Paul.

I shall love to introduce you to Pierre if we should meet in our dreams, but I'm afraid it would only be rude, so I shall not look forward to it when the time comes.

(sneak.)