Spyke & Mike’s Spiked Holiday Hangover

“Ho, ho, ho, booms the fat man or as I cackle; hobble, wobble, and gobble my BTR friends. It’s that time of year to head over the river and through the woods to be around people so dear, near, and hopefully full of cheer. Or in my case, at the Sanctuary, have Mike clean up the extra rooms and pull out the air mattresses so my relatives can come and visit.”
 
Mike replies, “Bird brain, did you email holiday invitations behind my back again this year? I may be the guardian of the sanctuary but I’m not going to be a wildlife rehabilitator to your feathered friends after they’ve gorged on too much hemp seed and wine. Didn’t you have enough of their avian antics last year? Between Polly who ate all your crackers, the roadrunner sprinting around cackling beep, beep all day, Daisy and Donald Duck nesting on the couch laying eggs, Daffy Duck telling you that ‘youuuu’re deththpicable’ and those damn flock of seagulls flying overhead giving us white and purple Christmas droppings to dodge?”

I cluck, “Yes, I did, so just hear me out Mike. When I’m not surfing the web I like to loiter with your kind. I may act like a human trapped in a bird’s body, but every now and then, nature calls. Sometimes I just want to hang with my gaggle of fowl friends, all pun intended. I know you can relate becuase you leave me at home to go out with your posse from time to time.”

Mike responds, “I understand, Spyke. And you know what? I’m glad you want to pull your beak off the keyboard and get away from the computer screen to lollygag with your feathered family. I can handle the once a year thing but, a little advance notice would be nice. Seeing it’s that time of year for Christmas jingles, your compulsion for the computer and your love of riding the Fat Bird, I created two wacky carols in your honor. Read along to the tune of: ‘Winter Wonderland’ and tell me what you think.”

Doorbell rings, Spykes not listenin’
From her beak, drool is glistenin’
She’s content although
Mike really doesn’t think so
Happily addicted to the Web.

All night long, her snout is clicking
Unaware time is ticking
There’s old food on her beak
A full-fledged computer geek
Happily addicted to the Web.

Friends come by
They shake her saying, “yo, Spyke,
We just lit a cherry bomb.”
Not flinching she squawks, “Take a hike, I’m on nakedparrots.com!”

She don’t phone, she stopped texting
Don’t go out, she smells disgusting
She don’t care if someday, her perch rots away
She’s happily addicted to the Web.

She’s happily addicted to the Web!
Happ-ily, add-dict-ed to the Web!!
 
“The second one is about your love of being in the wind and written to the tune of: ‘O come all ye faithful.’”

O come all ye bikers,
Joyful and triumphant,
Oh come ye, oh come ye to Pinellas,
Come and let her ride with you,
Born the queen of biker parrots.
O come, let’s all ride with her,
O come, let’s all ride with her,
O come, let’s all ride with her,
Spyke was Born to Ride!

O sing, choirs of v-twins,
Sing in exultation.
Sing loud so all drivers can hear,
Give lots of throttle so they disappear.
O come, let’s all ride with her,
O come, let’s all ride with her,
O come, let’s all ride with her,
Spyke was Born to Ride!

All hail, world we greet thee,
On two wheels makes her happy.
O Spyke, your words are so wacky,
But somehow they all believe.
O come, let’s all ride with her,
O come, let’s all ride with her,
O come, let’s all ride with her,
Spyke was Born to Ride!

 I squawk, “Dude! Those are pretty cool. You’ve been so narrow-minded lately that now you can see through a keyhole with both eyes. How did you ever get past your bout with S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder) to come up with awesome jingles?”

Mike babbles, “Well, Spyke, after our putt to the beach and seeing you pose in that Christmas tree at sunset made me realize that life is short, winter is shorter and the sun will be gone in a heartbeat. Getting that Kodak moment and making light of your lifestyle makes my S.A.D. short-lived. Of course I had help from the three wise men; Jack Daniels, Jim Beam and Johnnie Walker.”

I chirp loudly, “You’re the best daddy ever! Let’s go get your knees in the breeze, my wings in the wind and the Fat Birds’ wheels rolling down the road.”
—SPYKE