I noticed something funny last week at breakfast, when my pet mynah bird stopped singing his usual song. His usual song goes: “Lickety split, lickety split, I am covered in spit, I want out of this pit.”
But last monday he was mumbling something suspicious, some other rhyme that sounded like “Bats and bears break all the chairs because they’re there.”
“Hey!” I said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He replied, “Oh… squak swuak!” and stared at me with his beady black eyes. “Whatever,” I said. Luckily I had my notebook and I wrote the whole thing down.