[ 005 ] [ Video / Commentlog ]

[dontgiveafock]

[From the vegetable patch outside of Joe's kitchen, one might hear a stream of angry curses accompanied by the cawing of crows and the occasional dull thud of a large blunt object. A closer inspection would find Joe himself brandishing a shovel and fighting off a swarm of birds from his garden. On a spit over a fire is a sharksheep, the proposed

Comments

[Audio]

[doctoral_bird]

[There's a noticeably distressed voice, almost in a bit of a panic.]

A-Ah! N-No! What are you doing!

[Oh god, the sorrow. The unhappiness.]

[Audio]

[dontgiveafock]

M'actin' on a pest problem! [WHACK]

The hell do you think I'm doin'!

[Audio]

[doctoral_bird]

[There's a yelp of distress, which sounds more like a squawk from the doctor's side.]

No! Why! Shoo them off if you must but don't MURDER them!

[There's a clatter and commotion as Malkus tries to find something. Anything to harmlessly get the crows away without destroying such beautiful creatures.]

[Audio]

[dontgiveafock]

I shoo them off and the little blighters come straight back! You want to come get rid of 'em yerself?

[Come on Malkus. Come save the birdies from the mean man and his shovel. At least Joe doesn't have his rifle.

Yet.]

[Audio]

[doctoral_bird]

Okay! Okay I will! Please wait. Do not kill any more of them I shall be right down!

[There's a rustling and a door quickly being thrown open as Malkus makes his way down. It sounds as if he's dragging something behind him. Perhaps something to assist him?]

[Audio]

[dontgiveafock]

[What the hell. Joe frowns at the journal.]

The fock're you carryin', lad?

[Audio]

[doctoral_bird]

[More rushed footsteps.]

A bag. A sack to, hopefully, contain a few so I may relocate them. A-And some bread. You are at the vegetable garden?

[The doctor is dragging a rather large bag that seemed to be for holding potatoes, rather than for catching birds. He wasn't sure how he'd catch them, but he would! Even if it'd take multiple trips.]