pennsylvania 1:2

My name is Mandy, she said, and this is Pickle. She had a parrot on her shoulder, Pickle the Parrot. Both the woman and the bird were inside a cage outside a gift shop in the mountains, a small town, a strange place it seemed to keep a woman in a cage, but then we were from out of town, so who could say. Anyway, the cage was not locked. She could get out, I thought. Do you want to come with us? I wanted to ask. We're looking for the mother of these children. Just the four of us, it would be, leave your cage behind. As for the bird, I was not sure whether it was a real parrot. Can it talk? Jill asked the woman on Jack's behalf. Of course it can talk, said the woman in the cage with the parrot named Pickle. The bird said: peter piper's pickle. Polly want a cracker? asked Jack. Polly wanna fuck me, said the bird, beginning to sound a lot like its cellmate the woman. Out of the parrot cage, into our car. Take a little trip. What'd it say, said Jack. I said it asked if this nice lady would like to go for a drive on such a beautiful day. It did not, said Jill, I'm going in.

move on...