Chacapna: Rise of the DepEd Mafia, the western parrot (part nine)

Half Naked

THE cub took his shot of the Tacitus wine and went rumpling in one corner while mulling over how it feels to sit in the throne of the king. In his mind, it appears similar to shooting an invisible star. Rather than daydreaming which leads to lunacy, he decided to remain being the cub forever. Meanwhile, after sensing that her audiences are bored of her talk shows, the lion queen sought the help of the green parrot in the western front of the mountainous province. She supposed that this kind of bird can spring insights devoted to her perceived tiger’s idiocy of piglet protection policies. And so, against the schedule impose by the empire; she mustered all the tigers towards the kingdom hall while the carabows and dogs seize control of the piglets in their pens.

The parrot sang his introduction: I may not be the right animal to talk about these, because never in my life did I step on that pig pens, nor wanted to go inside and straightened their shits. In this kingdom and even in the whole empire; teaching piglets the good manners and right conduct emerge as the most difficult task. I despise this duty however, but I admire you for choosing and staying in this profession. You may wonder the integrity of a bee who babbles sweet nectars when in fact; the bee never tried sucking pollen grains in those tempting petals. I tell you, that experience is not necessary, because my task is to fly in the empire and observe what the tigers and piglets are doing. In short, you and I by nature, have different tasks.

And the parrot went on to strip his speech to bare the body. There are various types of piglets, I know you know, or have encountered it already in the pens by now. Characters of the good ones like the owl, ants, and pigeons, or the most derided types similar to hoppers, goats, geese and other Jurassic form of animals are only the choices. The last types are alarming because every year, they evolve into a more serious kind. Alas, the boars who owned them expect you to treat these piglets as prince and princess of a fine-looking palace, although we know that the pens are really concentration camps. What do policy makers in the empire expects you to do amidst the billions of budgets poured in the empire, but half was lost in space? None but to keep in mind those vague and muddled piglet protection policy.

Now if you cannot bear these realities, think not only twice but more, if you still embrace on that oath, you have sworn. In all the times I’ve soar in the sky I always took the liberty to simplify that policy. And it says: no paws shall touch the piglet’s skin, no unpleasant word to demean, no piglet’s fur is better than another, no toe shall be force to sit or stands still; nonetheless the serious one recalls, never touch the piglet balls. To be continued...


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