That trickster bird will be the death of me yet.
There was beer involved. Perhaps more beer than was reasonable, but it certainly seemed like a good idea at the time. Which might have been the bird’s influence. At least that is what I’d like to think.
Most of the time I’m too much of a gentleman to be tempted by this sort of thing. But this time I was vulnerable. Then the bird showed up and dropped some choice words in my ear. And like a fool, instead of running away from a talking bird, I listened. And then had another beer.
Then somehow it seemed logical to try the karaoke machine. That should have been a clue that there was already too much beer involved. Damn bird again, I suspect.
At some point it became urgent to find some privacy. And that is when the cat got involved. Next thing I knew, my pants were around my ankles, a cat was laughing at me, and I was tipping head first into the oubliette.
I always knew that somehow cats and pants would be my undoing.
I just never knew how. Or that some bird would be egging the cat on the whole time.