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Tiny Mike the Titmouse

Dennis Furburth left work on a cold, rainy Tuesday night when he remembered it was his oldest daughter’s birthday. He knew he had to get his precious angel something great. After all, a girl only turns eleven once. Forgoing his usual bus stop, Dennis walked a couple of blocks until he reached Chinatown and kept his eyes wide open. Several stores tempted him with exotic wares, but Dennis knew his daughter. He knew she needed something original. That’s when he found it, sitting in the display window of Mendy’s department store.

A “Justin Timberlake” signed poster.

Perfect! He stepped inside, pointed out the object, and a friendly worker whose nametag said Janice procured the poster and brought the item to the counter. The employee who couldn’t have been older than twenty took her time and carefully rolled the poster up, deposited it inside a long tube, and wrapped the whole thing in fancy parchment paper. As she did this, Janice casually tossed out, “Oh my God! Julia will just die!” Dennis did a double-take.

“How did you know my daughter’s name?” The girl let out a quick laugh, forgetting how weird she probably sounded.

“Tiny Mike told me.”

“Who?

“Tiny Mike, the Titmouse!” Janice pointed down to a small bird with yellow feathers hanging out in a cage behind the cash register. Dennis looked at this tiny animal, not comprehending the English she had spoken.

“I don’t understand.”

“Hold on a second. He has to tell me something.” She leaned in to listen. “He’s saying to buy him instead. Julia will like him more.” Dennis smiled and then let out a laugh.

“Ahh, okay, okay, you got me. This one of them new talking robots? Like an Alexa?” Janice stared at Dennis. Now it was her turn not to comprehend the English he had spoken.

“No. That’s Tiny Mike, the Titmouse. He’s as real as it gets.” Dennis looked at the girl, then back down at the bird, who was cleaning one of his wings.

“Okay, I’ll play along. Why are you calling him a mouse when he’s a bird?” Janice let out a booming laugh.

“Because a titmouse is a type of bird silly!” Feeling a tad foolish, Dennis relented.

“So hypothetically, if I was interested in this talking titmouse bird, how much we talking about?” She leaned in again to listen, and Dennis found himself leaning forward as well, although he was unable to hear what was said. She popped back up with a smile on her face.

“Tiny Mike is telling me to sell him for three dollars.”

“That’s it? I can buy a talking bird for only three dollars? Sold!” With a laugh, Dennis handed over three singles. Janice picked up the cage, and as Dennis extended his hands to take the object, Janice pulled back and said in an ominous voice,

“I have to warn you, though; he gives TERRIBLE advice.” Dennis smiled, waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t, he asked,

“That’s it? That’s the warning? Who’s going to take advice from a bird?” He left the store before she could reply. Forty-five minutes later he arrived home, just in time for cake. The family gathered around, performing a rousing rendition of “happy birthday” and watched as Julia took several attempts at blowing out the trick candles. They barely finished eating when Dennis blurted out,

“Julia, my darling, let me give you your present.”

“Can’t wait daddy!” All eyes swiveled towards dad as he raced out of the room. When he came back, he was holding something behind his back.

“Close your eyes.” Julia did as she was told and let out a squeal when she covered her eyes with her hands. Dennis crept closer until he was standing in front of her.

“Okay, open them.” Julia opened her eyes and saw Tiny Mike, the Titmouse perched inside his cage. Her eyes began to flood with tears.

“Daddy! I don’t want a bird!” Her crying caused her two younger siblings to cry, and suddenly, there was a full-blown panic happening inside his kitchen. His wife, Sally, gave him the big eye too. Dennis had messed up, big time. During the chaos, he heard a slight murmuring and put his ear to the cage.

“Don’t worry. She’ll get used to me. Just put me on her nightstand she’ll be fine.” Dennis nodded his head and locked eyes with his daughter, still crying.

“Listen, honey, I know you don’t like Tiny Mike, but I have a secret.”

“What?” Julia said, slightly calming down.

“He’s a magical titmouse!”

“He’s not a mouse! He’s a yucky bird!”

“No, I know! I made the same mistake! A titmouse is a type of bird. They’re very special, and this one is even more special — he can talk!” Julia calmed down and looked at Tiny Mike.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.

“But, I don’t want a magical titmouse!” Dennis held his hand up, and Julia let him talk.

“How about this. We’ll keep it in your room for one night — “ She went to speak, but Dennis cut her off again. “One night, and if, when you wake up tomorrow, you still don’t like it, I’ll get rid of Tiny Mike. Deal?” Julia didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds before slightly nodding her head. Dennis smiled, birthday crisis averted and did what Tiny Mike had said, taking him upstairs to her room, and placing him on the nightstand. Five hours later, Julia stood next to his bed, holding the cage.

“Daddy? Daddy, wake up!” Dennis flipped over on his back and looked up at his daughter.

“Honey! Honey, what’s the matter?”

“He told me you were very sad, and I should let you sleep with him tonight.” In a sleep-induced stupor, Dennis nodded, and Julia placed the cage on his nightstand, six inches from his pillow. Julia kissed her dad, goodnight, and Dennis went back to sleep. Due to the proximity of the cage, Tiny Mike, the Titmouse was able to advise Dennis throughout the night:

“Withdraw your 401K and invest in pigs from North Korea.”

“You deserve that sports car.”

“Your wife wouldn’t mind if you had only one affair.”

“A comb-over really hides that bald spot.”

“The Jets are going to be great next year, buy season tickets.”

“Cocaine is fine in moderation.”

Dennis woke up the next morning and followed the advice Tiny Mike had given him to a T, to the misfortune of his entire family. There was only one hope for Dennis and his poor family, Meow — the family cat. Meow was sixteen, going blind and as ambivalent as ever. Still, a bird is a bird, and the next morning when Meow saw the cage on the nightstand, she did what nature programmed her to do, attack. The cage was knocked to the ground, causing the door to open and allowing Meow to drag Tiny Mike out with her paws. After several minutes of smacking him around, Tiny Mike was severely concussed and could hardly move. He didn’t have much longer and cried out,

“Hey cat, see that brown snake coming out of the wall?”

Meow looked over and saw something menacing and blurry. “You should go over there and kill that thing before it tries to steal me away from you.”

Meow, being almost blind, went over and chewed the brown snake, which was actually the lamp wire. Two minutes later, she was electrocuted. A solitary spark escaped her lips, catching the cheap-looking drapes Dennis’ wife had been meaning to replace for years. Within seconds the entire house was in flames.

And Tiny Mike the Titmouse flew out amongst the flames, continuing his eternal quest to give horrible advice to the easily confused.

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