Another of my plays I wrote in the 70's.
THE BIRD CAGE
Once upon a time there were 2 brothers, Mike and Tim. Each lived in his own apartment, but they visited each other quite often, since they were not only brothers, but each other's best friends. One day Mike came over for a visit. He knocked on the door, and when Tim opened it, he entered.
“Hi Tim. How are you doing? Say, what's that you have there?”
“I got myself a new pet. It's a Vicki Bird.”
The Vicki bird happily sang. “Cheep! Cheep! **** a doodle doo! Whee!”
“ A Vicki Bird, huh? Unusual song. Pretty bird, isn't she? Though I can't say much for the cage though. Plain sort of thing isn't it?”
Yeah. The pet store threw it in for free when I bought her. But now that I have it here, I can really see that it doesn't match the decor.”
“True. You've got Danish Modern furniture, and French Impressionist paintings on your walls. That cage is definitely an Early Bronze Age Salvation Army reject."
The Vicki bird sang happily. “Ack! Awk! Tooki-tooki! (Woody Woodpecker laugh.) He He He ha ha, He he he ha ha, he-e-e-e-e-e!”
Mike was fascinated. “Very Interesting song. Well, she seems happy enough. She doesn't seem to mind what sort of cage it is.”
Tim was thoughtful. “Yes. But I think it would fit in with the rest of the room better with a newer cage.”
Mike tossed it off. “Well let’s worry about that later. I have some tickets here for the Bronco's and Raven's game.” He held them up.
Tim was enthused. “Then lets go!”
One week later, Mike came by again. “Hi Tim.”
“Hi ho! Just wait till you see what I did to the Vicki Bird's Cage.”
The Vicki Bird was singing a new song. “Chomp, Chomp, Chew, Chew!” She pointed her wing at her mouth in rhythm. “Eat, Eat, Eat!”
Mike shook his head. “Really strange songs, I tell you.”
Tim made like an announcer on TV. “Behold my new bird cage!”
Mike was uncomfortable. “Yeah, it uh, certainly is an er, interesting design.”
“That's because it is a Salvador Dali original. It's a one of a kind. He calls it, ‘Caged by Time‘.”
“Well I'm happy to hear it's a one of a kind. That explains the melted watches over the door there, with lines of ants instead of hands and numbers.”
The Vicki Bird was singing enthusiastically. “Ack, Awk! Dinner Bing!
”
Mike looked at her and pointed. “I think she's trying to tell us something. Know what? I think she's hungry?”
“Hungry? Say, I have this 2 for one coupon for Mawkey's Chinese Pizza Parlor. They are having a special on a Sweet and Sour Pepperoni Pizza and Moo Goo Gai Macaroni Combo I've been wanting to try. Let's go.”
Having taken a week to recover from his massive indigestion, Mike came back to see his brother. He was warmly greeted. “Mike! Oh, boy, am I glad to see you. Take a look at the bird cage.”
“Wow! Where did you get those tiny photos of great master pieces?”
Tim crowed happily. “Wrongo, zombie lips! Here, look through this magnifying glass.“
“Gasp! Good heavens! Those are real paintings!”
“Yes. They are a set of miniatures I bought from the Louvre Museum, in Paris.”
“From the Louvre? That must have cost a bundle.”
“It did, but that's not all. Notice that water fountain in the center.”
“Good grief! That's not a plastic do hickey! It's a genuine hand carved marble statuette.”
“Yes, it's a genuine Michaelangelo, carved from Ferrara marble. Made it as a model of one of his real statues. Took him 6 months to carve it.”
Just then the Vicki Bird spoke instead of singing. “Cackle, snort, gasp, wheeze.”
“Say the Vicki Bird isn't looking too good. Have you been feeding her?”
“Feeding? Feeding? There's an idea. A hydroponics farm, conveyer belt fed intake harvester…” Mike shakes his head and leaves. But a few days later, Mike was back. He was dragged on over by a frantic Tim, who was dragging him by the necktie.
“MIKE!! Mike! Quick! Quick! Look! Look!”
“Alright, alright! Good Grief!”
The Vicki bird was slumped sadly in her cage. “Argle-bargle.”
Mike looked. “The cage has wings on it.”
“And wheels. And a jet engine, with vertical take off and landing capability. And a central processing unit with 20 trillion K of memory, and robotic arms. I noticed you were complaining about Vicki Bird's song. So I installed a voice and sound synthesizer and 20 speaker quadraphonic sound system!”
He pressed a remote control button, and the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ blasted out at even more than full volume. Tim kept on talking about the system. But Mike couldn’t hear a word, as he had his hands over his ears, screaming and begging Tim to shut it off. Tim eventually does. “And that's only at half volume. I can't wait to get to Carnigie Hall and crank it up all the way.”
Just then the Vicki Bird made a final sound “Org“ and collapsed. With their ears still ringing, no one noticed.
Mike was curious. “What's with the wings and jet engines?”
“Now it can go places and do things!”
“Why?”
“Because it would be just too selfish to keep this all to ourselves. I'm arraigning a world tour of all the great art museums…”
Mike noticed the slumped birdie. He looked closer. “Hey wait a minute. She's dead!”
“Hmm? Who's dead?”
“The Vicki Bird.”
“What Vicki Bird?”
“The Vicki Bird you bought this cage for. Haven't you been feeding her?”
“Feeding who?”
“The bird inside the bird cage!”
“What bird?”
“That one.”
Tim examined it closely. “Ohh, you're absolutely right.” He reached in, pulled out the deceased bird, threw it into a trashcan. He wiped off his hands. “Don't know how that disgusting thing got in there, but it was definitely clashing with the color scheme. What we'll do is build a cybernetic bird, programmed to sing and tap-dance with the sound system…”
And so the moral of the story is:
Take care of the body, but not the soul,
And you soon wind up in a deep dark hole.
THE BIRD CAGE
Once upon a time there were 2 brothers, Mike and Tim. Each lived in his own apartment, but they visited each other quite often, since they were not only brothers, but each other's best friends. One day Mike came over for a visit. He knocked on the door, and when Tim opened it, he entered.
“Hi Tim. How are you doing? Say, what's that you have there?”
“I got myself a new pet. It's a Vicki Bird.”
The Vicki bird happily sang. “Cheep! Cheep! **** a doodle doo! Whee!”
“ A Vicki Bird, huh? Unusual song. Pretty bird, isn't she? Though I can't say much for the cage though. Plain sort of thing isn't it?”
Yeah. The pet store threw it in for free when I bought her. But now that I have it here, I can really see that it doesn't match the decor.”
“True. You've got Danish Modern furniture, and French Impressionist paintings on your walls. That cage is definitely an Early Bronze Age Salvation Army reject."
The Vicki bird sang happily. “Ack! Awk! Tooki-tooki! (Woody Woodpecker laugh.) He He He ha ha, He he he ha ha, he-e-e-e-e-e!”
Mike was fascinated. “Very Interesting song. Well, she seems happy enough. She doesn't seem to mind what sort of cage it is.”
Tim was thoughtful. “Yes. But I think it would fit in with the rest of the room better with a newer cage.”
Mike tossed it off. “Well let’s worry about that later. I have some tickets here for the Bronco's and Raven's game.” He held them up.
Tim was enthused. “Then lets go!”
One week later, Mike came by again. “Hi Tim.”
“Hi ho! Just wait till you see what I did to the Vicki Bird's Cage.”
The Vicki Bird was singing a new song. “Chomp, Chomp, Chew, Chew!” She pointed her wing at her mouth in rhythm. “Eat, Eat, Eat!”
Mike shook his head. “Really strange songs, I tell you.”
Tim made like an announcer on TV. “Behold my new bird cage!”
Mike was uncomfortable. “Yeah, it uh, certainly is an er, interesting design.”
“That's because it is a Salvador Dali original. It's a one of a kind. He calls it, ‘Caged by Time‘.”
“Well I'm happy to hear it's a one of a kind. That explains the melted watches over the door there, with lines of ants instead of hands and numbers.”
The Vicki Bird was singing enthusiastically. “Ack, Awk! Dinner Bing!
”
Mike looked at her and pointed. “I think she's trying to tell us something. Know what? I think she's hungry?”
“Hungry? Say, I have this 2 for one coupon for Mawkey's Chinese Pizza Parlor. They are having a special on a Sweet and Sour Pepperoni Pizza and Moo Goo Gai Macaroni Combo I've been wanting to try. Let's go.”
Having taken a week to recover from his massive indigestion, Mike came back to see his brother. He was warmly greeted. “Mike! Oh, boy, am I glad to see you. Take a look at the bird cage.”
“Wow! Where did you get those tiny photos of great master pieces?”
Tim crowed happily. “Wrongo, zombie lips! Here, look through this magnifying glass.“
“Gasp! Good heavens! Those are real paintings!”
“Yes. They are a set of miniatures I bought from the Louvre Museum, in Paris.”
“From the Louvre? That must have cost a bundle.”
“It did, but that's not all. Notice that water fountain in the center.”
“Good grief! That's not a plastic do hickey! It's a genuine hand carved marble statuette.”
“Yes, it's a genuine Michaelangelo, carved from Ferrara marble. Made it as a model of one of his real statues. Took him 6 months to carve it.”
Just then the Vicki Bird spoke instead of singing. “Cackle, snort, gasp, wheeze.”
“Say the Vicki Bird isn't looking too good. Have you been feeding her?”
“Feeding? Feeding? There's an idea. A hydroponics farm, conveyer belt fed intake harvester…” Mike shakes his head and leaves. But a few days later, Mike was back. He was dragged on over by a frantic Tim, who was dragging him by the necktie.
“MIKE!! Mike! Quick! Quick! Look! Look!”
“Alright, alright! Good Grief!”
The Vicki bird was slumped sadly in her cage. “Argle-bargle.”
Mike looked. “The cage has wings on it.”
“And wheels. And a jet engine, with vertical take off and landing capability. And a central processing unit with 20 trillion K of memory, and robotic arms. I noticed you were complaining about Vicki Bird's song. So I installed a voice and sound synthesizer and 20 speaker quadraphonic sound system!”
He pressed a remote control button, and the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ blasted out at even more than full volume. Tim kept on talking about the system. But Mike couldn’t hear a word, as he had his hands over his ears, screaming and begging Tim to shut it off. Tim eventually does. “And that's only at half volume. I can't wait to get to Carnigie Hall and crank it up all the way.”
Just then the Vicki Bird made a final sound “Org“ and collapsed. With their ears still ringing, no one noticed.
Mike was curious. “What's with the wings and jet engines?”
“Now it can go places and do things!”
“Why?”
“Because it would be just too selfish to keep this all to ourselves. I'm arraigning a world tour of all the great art museums…”
Mike noticed the slumped birdie. He looked closer. “Hey wait a minute. She's dead!”
“Hmm? Who's dead?”
“The Vicki Bird.”
“What Vicki Bird?”
“The Vicki Bird you bought this cage for. Haven't you been feeding her?”
“Feeding who?”
“The bird inside the bird cage!”
“What bird?”
“That one.”
Tim examined it closely. “Ohh, you're absolutely right.” He reached in, pulled out the deceased bird, threw it into a trashcan. He wiped off his hands. “Don't know how that disgusting thing got in there, but it was definitely clashing with the color scheme. What we'll do is build a cybernetic bird, programmed to sing and tap-dance with the sound system…”
And so the moral of the story is:
Take care of the body, but not the soul,
And you soon wind up in a deep dark hole.
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