The Innocent Little Birdy Bully
By: Kyle Nordwall
Tags: Humor, Psychology, Fiction, Bullying, Stereotypes

Little Birdy was walking to school one day, happily skipping along and whistling such a beautiful song, as only a joyful happy Little Birdy can. He was whistling a song from his favorite movie, The Sound of Music with Julie Andrews, his most favorite actress in the whole wide universe.

Oh the joy!

Lost in his whistled version of ‘My Favorite Things,’ Little Birdy failed to notice the bigger, older Punk Birdy, now standing in front of him.

“You’re like a little girl birdy! Where are all your little girl birdy friends?!” and with that Punk Birdy walked away laughing, in that classic Evil Birdy sort of way.

Little Birdy sat there for a minute, wondering about the strange feelings going on inside. He didn’t like those feelings, not one bit! So he pushed them down, and merrily (it seemed) he skipped on to school picking up his whistling where it left off, picturing his Julie skipping along side him as if she were really there.

Some time later, Little Birdy is walking to school, eyes darting about, keeping a lookout for Punk Birdy, as the confrontations had grown in both regularity and intensity. “I don’t know what Punk Birdy’s problem is, Julie Andrews, why can’t he just leave us alone? All I want to do is skip and whistle my way to school.”

“Oh, he was probably picked on as a Little Birdy himself, so he’s just playing out his role now as Punk Birdy,” said Julie in a matter of fact way, but Little Birdy wasn’t listening, he was focused on his Punk Birdy lookout.

But not focused enough, apparently, because the next thing he knew, he was lying flat on his back and, coming to, he noticed his whole head, and especially his Little Birdy beak was aching something fierce, and as his vision cleared, he saw Punk Birdy standing over him, looking very mean and dangerous.

Mean and dangerous looking Punk Bird.

“You are way too different than me and I hate you!” Screamed Punk Bird, then quickly ran off, leaving Little Birdy dazed and confused.

Julie Andrews, now wearing a spiked collar and sporting blue spiked hair, helped Little Birdy to his feet and proceeded to give Little Birdy all sorts of advice in how to take care of and protect himself. “You need to toughen up Little Birdy. You gotta stop taking this abuse from Punk Birdy.”

But Little Birdy wasn’t listening, he just pushed Julie out of the way, blaming her for all his problems.

Little Birdy went home that night and listened to all sorts of punk and metal music. He listened to anything that seemed dark and symbolic of spikes and leather and ripped jeans. He let that music permeate his soul, it became part of him. And he like it.

The next morning he grabbed his baseball bat (which had a bunch of nails in it that he had hammered in while headbanging to Slayer, well, between head bangs, actually. Obviously) and confidently walked to school, hoping to confront Punk Birdy. But he never saw Punk Birdy.

Not that day nor the next.

Days and days just went by, and he started to miss Punk Bird. Or, as he thought about this, he noticed that what he was actually starting to miss was the idea of hurting Punk Bird. This made him angry, all of the abuse that he had taken from Punk Bird, and now that he was manbird enough to actually do something about it, Punk Bird decides to hide away.

I like dressing to match what I’m experiencing on the inside!

“Probably hiding away somewhere scared, shaking in his stupid Punk Bird boots,” he thinks to himself as he is walking to school in his awesome Punk Bird shoes, still super frustrated and angry at the idea of unavenged bullying when, from out of nowhere, he sees a an all too innocent Tiny Birdy bouncing to school sporting a Pollyanna shirt. And an idea starts to form.

“Well, what do you think, Julie? Shall we go teach this Tiny Birdy what life is really like?”

Julie, now fully decked out in goth, and hints of grunge, complete with black fingernails and heavy black mascara and eyeliner and a messy and baggy flannel shirt, just smiles that wicked Julie smile, licking her lips in anticipation, muttering something about, “…and so the cycle goes…”