Rick Guttery

I went outside today with ONE objective. Get the mail. That’s it. A normal adult activity that should take approximately 45 seconds. Unfortunately, I saw a crow. And the crow saw me. Now, I don’t know what came over me, but I nodded at him. He nodded back. So obviously we’re colleagues now. I said, “What’s up, fucker?” He screamed. I screamed back. This was apparently the password. Because ANOTHER crow showed up. Then another. Within two minutes I had accidentally assembled a small airborne council in my driveway. My neighbor walked outside and asked what I was doing. I said, “Diplomacy.” She went back inside. Smart woman. Anyway, I decided my new associates deserved snacks, so I went inside and came back with peanuts. This is where negotiations deteriorated. One crow took a peanut. One crow stole THREE. And Gerald— I named the biggest one Gerald— Gerald ignored the peanuts entirely and stole a fucking spoon off my porch. Why was there a spoon on my porch? Irrelevant. Gerald has it now. That’s between him and God. I tried following him because THAT WAS A GOOD SPOON. This resulted in me barefoot, halfway across the yard, yelling, “GERALD YOU THIEVING SKY BASTARD, WE HAD AN AGREEMENT.” That’s when I noticed a little kid across the street staring at me. I stared back. He stared at the crows. Then back at me. I whispered, “They’ve chosen me.” His mother immediately called him inside. Anyway. I never got the mail. Gerald has my spoon. There are now seven crows sitting on the power line outside my house. And one of them just dropped a bottle cap on my driveway. So either I’ve been accepted into their society… or they’re paying me. I don’t know. But tomorrow I’m giving them walnuts and assigning ranks. Gerald is already on thin fucking ice.