Each day the crowd grew larger. Rain or shine, dedicated fans gathered around the aviary, pen and paper at the ready, waiting for that day’s pronouncement.
Sometimes philosophical, sometimes humorous, oft-times abstract in the extreme, Psittacine’s daily oration began precisely at noon.
Watching the spectacle with silent disdain, Eagle expelled an incredulous sigh.
“You’d better stay on his good side,” Tamarin said. “I hear he’s writing a tell-all book about life here at the zoo.”
“Psittacine’s nonsense does not worry me, He doesn’t have an original thought in his head,” poohed Eagle. “He just parrots back what everyone else says.”