By Forrest Clancy

 

The Peacock’s Address 

“Oh you are in for an absolute TREAT,” said the Peacock. 

And at this, his blue feathers pricked up and fanned out behind his head. 

“I have got just the juiciest brief waiting for you. You are going to become twitter FAMOUS.” 

This did not excite anyone. Not least the Mouse, who knew it was impossible. “Why does he always have to do this?” 

“I don’t even like fame” added the Giraffe. 

“Yes!” Said Peacock. “And that’s what makes you so special, Giraffe.” And then he raised his eyebrows at the other animals, as if to say; you really are special, aren’t you, Giraffe. Everybody loved that one. 

“Yeah, well, they’re all going to jail,” the Giraffe would later remark. “Honestly, from that moment, I just wanted to see them fail. So long suckers.” 

 

— — — 

The next morning, the Peacock addressed the room again. 

“One million followers in a week. That’s all you have to- oh, Chicken, my love. You’re late!” 

The Chicken dropped her bag and sighed, “here we go.” 

“Dance for us, Chicken.” 

The Chicken flapped her wings and half-heartedly hopped from one foot to the next while the Peacock filmed on his iPhone. 

“Well. There you are.” He tucked it back into his pouch, “your first tweet.” 

At this point, the Pug raised his hand for the third time that day. “I’ve already created my own twitter account,” he smirked. “I give people advice by quoting the famous Socrates. He’s a greek philosopher.” 

“Was.” Said the Mole. “You sick, sick man.” 

“Someone should put him down,” said the Porcupine. 

“You know,” said the Pug, “I was here last year, and we had another Porcupine who was a lot nicer than you.” He paused, and then turned to her once more, “she wrote better copy, too.” 

The Porcupine excused herself. 

— — — 

The Duck came in that afternoon for some mentoring, and, having heard about the twitter brief, he decided to give some feedback. 

“Quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack!” And then he left. 

“Pete,” said the Turkey, pacing up and down with his constant, fidgety enthusiasm. “He’s quacked it again!” Oh, how the Turkey’s cheeriness grated on everyone.

“Shut-up Turkey,” said the Pig as he took the stage. The Pig was somewhat of an authority on all things, and, all of a sudden, everybody went quiet. 

“Do you all remember when we agreed that we would kill Turkey and serve him at the Christmas party?” 

Everybody nodded. The Turkey offered on of his strange half smiles. The one that said ‘you’re joking,’ but at the same time said ‘please tell me you’re joking’.  

“We were gonna chop off your head” said the Mole.

“And I was gonna stick one my quills into your little giblets,” the Porcupine added with newfound passion. 

“We can’t kill the Turkey anymore.” Said the Pig. A hush fell over the room. “Because I have found a solution to the twitter brief.” 

“Well thank GOD,” said the Giraffe. 

The Pig cleared his throat. “We are going to kill the Peacock”