Dead Plate Oneshots Birdbrain

Rody Lamoree had dealt with a lot of nonsense in his life, but nothing-*nothing*-had prepared him for the verbal abuse hurled at him on a daily basis by a bird. And not just any bird-Vincent’s pet African Grey parrot, Noir.

If anyone had asked Rody what his breaking point in life would be, he would have guessed it’d be something normal, like losing a fight with a broken vending machine, or dealing with a horrible customer. But no, it was a two-foot-tall feathered monster with a Napoleon complex and a mouth like a sailor.

Noir sat perched on its stand, beady eyes focused on Rody like a sniper zeroing in on a target.

Across the room, Vincent was blissfully unaware, humming to himself as he made breakfast in the kitchen. “Everything okay in there?” he called.

“*Fuckin’ bald-ass loser,*” Noir muttered under its breath in an impressively accurate mimicry of Rody’s voice.

Rody’s eye twitched. He ran a hand through his very *real*, very *full* head of hair. “Vincent!” he called, voice strained.

“Oui?” Vincent turned around, smiling sweetly. “Is Noir behaving?”

Noir puffed out its chest, putting on the world’s best impression of a choir boy. “*Hi, Vincent! Love you!*”

Rody’s jaw hit the floor. “Did you *hear* that?! It just called me bald! And I’m *not* bald!”

Vincent laughed softly, waving a hand. “Oh, Rody, Noir’s just playing. He loves you, you know.”

“*Yeah, like I love food poisoning,*” Noir quipped, deadpan, in a perfect imitation of Vincent’s voice. The bird quickly shifted back into angel mode when Vincent turned around, fluffing up its feathers like it had done *nothing* wrong.

Rody could feel his blood pressure rising. *Oh, it’s on now.*

“Noir, you’re *this* close to becoming a pair of feathered earmuffs,” Rody growled under his breath.

Noir leaned in on its perch, locking eyes with Rody. “*Rody’s an ugly bitch,*” it hissed.

Rody’s jaw dropped. “You little-!”

“Hmm?” Vincent looked up again, blinking. “What was that, mon amour?”

“Nothing,” Rody seethed, glaring at Noir. “Just having a little *chat* with your sweet, perfect bird.” Noir puffed up, staring Rody down as if daring him to make a move.

“*I’m too good for you! Dumbass!*” Noir squawked, a smug look in its tiny bird eyes. The parrot flapped its wings dramatically as if it were performing some grand Shakespearean insult.

Rody crossed his arms, his mouth twitching. “You little *shit,* you’re lucky you’ve got wings. I swear to God-“

“*Swear to God, Rody’s bald!*” the bird repeated, its voice dripping with mockery. “*Shiny, shiny dome!*”

“OH, COME ON!” Rody shouted, pointing furiously at the bird. “I am NOT bald! I literally have *hair!*” He ran his fingers through his wild auburn curls in frustration. “See?! This is hair!”

Noir clucked its tongue. “*Wig,*” it whispered, as if it were revealing the biggest secret of the century.

Rody gaped. “Did you just-“

“*Wig!*” Noir repeated louder, this time throwing in a little cackle.

“I swear to God, Vincent,” Rody began, storming toward the kitchen, “if I catch that bird one more time with these insults, it’s going to *meet* the bottom of my shoe.”

Vincent chuckled softly. “Noir’s just being playful, Rody.”

Rody whirled around to point at the parrot, who was now standing on one leg, looking far too proud of itself. “Playful?! It just accused me of being *bald* again. That’s like the fifth time today!”

Noir clicked its beak and, in the most condescending tone Rody had ever heard, squawked, “*Rody’s a *weak* bald man!*

Rody sputtered, his hands waving wildly. “Oh, that’s it! Get down here! I’m putting you in a birdcage-shaped coffin!”

The parrot cawed loudly and fluttered down from its perch, flying in a circle around the living room just out of Rody’s reach. “*Bald idiot! Stupid! Dumbass!*” Noir taunted, landing gracefully back on its stand.

Rody was practically vibrating with frustration. “This bird’s gonna give me an aneurysm. I can’t take it anymore.”

Vincent glanced up from the stove, brow furrowed in confusion. “Are you sure Noir said that? He’s never said anything like that around me.”

Rody turned, wide-eyed, pointing back at Noir like a lunatic. “YES. The second you leave the room, it’s like a potty-mouthed gremlin from hell!”

Noir, ever the actor, turned to Vincent with the sweetest, most angelic voice. “*Love you, Vincent! You’re my favorite!*”

Rody’s jaw dropped so fast he might as well have unhinged it. “Did you *hear* that?!” He whipped around to face Vincent, who just smiled affectionately at the bird.

“I think you’re overreacting,” Vincent said with a chuckle. “Noir’s been well-behaved.”

“Well-behaved?! It just called me a bald dumbass like four times!”

“*Five!*” Noir corrected gleefully.

Rody threw his arms in the air. “I’m going insane! The bird’s *counting* now!”

“*And ugly!*” Noir chimed in.

Vincent sighed softly, walking over to Rody and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “You’re not ugly, mon amour.”

Rody’s anger deflated slightly at the kiss, but he still side-eyed the bird. “Yeah, tell that to feather-for-brains over there.”

Noir, as if sensing victory, puffed up like it was preparing for a parade. “*Ugly. Dumb. Bald.*” It cooed, this time adding a smug little whistle.

Vincent stifled a laugh, clearly finding the situation far more amusing than Rody. “Maybe Noir’s just jealous of you, Rody.”

“Jealous? Of what?”

Vincent’s lips curved into a playful smile. “Because you’re my favorite.”

Rody opened his mouth to protest, but then Noir squawked from its perch, louder than ever. “*Vincent loves me more!*” the bird screeched dramatically, flapping its wings.

Rody threw his hands up, eyes wild with disbelief. “Oh, *come on!* The *bird* is even calling dibs on you now?!”

Vincent chuckled, ruffling Rody’s hair before walking back to the kitchen. “No one’s taking your place, don’t worry.”

Noir, from its stand, delivered the final blow. “*Bald.*”

“THAT’S IT! I’M GONNA THROW THIS BIRD OUT THE WINDOW!” Rody snapped, reaching toward Noir.

Noir squawked indignantly, flapping its wings just out of Rody’s reach. “Touch me, and I’ll peck your dumb face off, you useless pile of garbage!”

“PILE OF-?” Rody stammered, turning beet red. “I’ll show you garbage!”

“You already do! You look like a walking trash fire!” Noir retorted, hopping from side to side with exaggerated arrogance. “Pathetic! Rody’s pathetic! Sad, sad little bald man.”

Rody yanked his hair, eyes twitching. “I am not bald! Why are you obsessed with calling me bald?!”

Noir cackled. “Because you look like a potato with a wig glued on! A whole clown-ass mess!” It tilted its head, eyeing Rody’s outfit with mock disgust. “What are those pants? Walmart chic? Thrift store reject? Did you get dressed in the dark?”

Rody looked down at his jeans, baffled. “What’s wrong with my pants?! They’re normal jeans!”

“More like jeans for someone who’s given up on life! Your style’s as dead as your career,baldy!”

Rody gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “My career is fine! I have a job!”

“Pffft,” Noir snorted, flapping its wings. “You wait tables like a broke college dropout. Which is basically what you are, right? Failed college, failed life, failed relationship-“

“HEY!” Rody shot back, glaring. “My relationship is just fine!”

Noir squinted at him with cold, judgmental eyes. “Really? How’s Manon doing these days? Oh wait-she dumped your ass, huh?”

Rody’s jaw hit the floor. “Okay, you listen here, you feathered freak-“

Noir puffed up, wings wide, like it was ready to throw down. “Feathered freak? Is that the best you got, Limp Noodle? You think you scare me with that noodle arm you call a bicep? I’ve seen wet bread with more muscle than you!”

“Wet bread?!” Rody sputtered, flexing his arm in disbelief. “These are solid muscles!”

Noir leaned in, tilting its head mockingly. “Sure, buddy. You’re ripped. Totally. That’s why you can’t even open a jar without crying for Vincent’s help, huh? ‘Oh Vincent, I’m too weak! Help me with the jar! I’m such a helpless little twig!'”

“That jar was sealed too tight and you know it!” Rody barked, arms flailing in defense.

Noir squawked in laughter, hopping around like it was performing a victory dance. “Too tight! Sure! Face it, you’re about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. No wonder you got dumped. I bet you couldn’t even cook a piece of toast without burning it.”

“I CAN MAKE TOAST!” Rody yelled, stomping his foot. “I’m an adult!”

“Barely! You look like a high school dropout who still lives in his mom’s basement!”

Rody was visibly shaking now. “I don’t live in my mom’s basement!”

Noir stared him down, its voice dropping low. “Bet you still call her to do your laundry, don’t you? What a mama’s boy. ‘Oh, Maman, help! I don’t know how to fold a shirt!'”

“Vincent, PLEASE-” Rody turned to the kitchen in desperation, hoping Vincent would back him up.

Vincent, ever calm and collected, peeked his head around the corner, eyebrow raised. “What’s going on in there?”

Noir immediately flipped the switch, chirping innocently. “Hi, Vincent! Love you, Vincent! You’re the best, Vincent! Mwah, mwah!”

Rody threw his hands in the air. “Are you KIDDING me?! It’s doing it AGAIN! The second you turn around, it becomes Satan’s parrot and just roasts me!”

Vincent blinked, clearly amused. “Roasts you?”

Noir gave Rody a side-eye. “Yeah, like a weak, soggy marshmallow over a trash fire! Useless sack of potatoes! You’re the Dollar Store version of a person!”

“YOU SEE?!” Rody cried, gesturing wildly at Noir like he was pleading for his life. “It’s doing it again! It’s attacking me!”

Vincent stifled a laugh, trying to keep a straight face. “Noir, be nice to Rody.”

Noir turned its head and whistled innocently, eyes wide with faux sweetness. “Love Rody! Rody’s the best!” Then, it muttered under its breath, “The best loser I’ve ever seen.”

Rody pointed accusingly. “I HEARD THAT!”

Noir squawked again, its voice gleeful. “Dumbass. Dumbass. Bald dumbass.”

Rody whirled around, ready to strangle the air. “VINCE! It’s cussing at me now! This thing is evil!”

Vincent finally broke into a fit of laughter, doubling over at the counter. “I don’t know, Rody, maybe Noir just… doesn’t like you.”

“Doesn’t like me?!” Rody repeated, horrified. “It’s obsessed with hating me! I swear, if you leave me alone with it for five more minutes, I’m gonna need therapy for the rest of my life!”

“Therapy won’t fix that face, ugly!” Noir called out, puffing up its feathers.

“That’s IT!” Rody grabbed a pillow from the couch and launched it at the bird.

Noir easily dodged it, flapping up to the curtain rod. “Weak throw, dumbass! Can’t even hit a bird, huh? What are you, twelve?”

Rody, panting, glared up at the bird perched high above him, victorious. “Come down here and say that to my face!”

Noir cackled. “You’ll have to grow a pair first, Baldy!”

Vincent wiped his eyes from laughing too hard, walking over, sitting on the couch and placing a hand on Rody’s shoulder. “Okay, okay. Let’s all calm down. Noir’s just teasing. You know how birds are.”

Rody glared up at Noir, breathing heavily. “That’s not a bird. That’s a tiny demon with wings.”

Noir, from its perch, gave one final parting shot. “Bald. Dumb. Trash-ass loser.”

Rody’s eye twitched. “You win this round, bird. But next time, I’m bringing a spray bottle.”

Noir puffed up its chest, feathers flaring dramatically, and let out a shrill cackle. “*Spray bottle? Ha! You dumb piece of crap!*” the parrot squawked, flapping its wings with glee.

Vincent, trying (and failing) to stay composed, shot Rody a grin from the couch. “You’re really going to take on a parrot with a spray bottle? That’s your big move?”

Rody glared at him. “Desperate times, Vincent. This little demon has pushed me too far.”

Noir cocked its head to the side, staring at Rody with its beady eyes. “*Pushed? You can’t push! You’re too weak, you noodle-armed idiot!*” The bird started laughing like it just told the joke of the century. “*Pathetic! You weak sack of crap!*”

“WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!” Rody shouted, shaking his fist at the bird.

Noir fluffed its feathers and screeched, “*Weak! Pathetic! No muscles, just fat! FAT RODY! Ha-haaa!*”

“I’M NOT FAT!” Rody yelled, stomping his foot on the floor in frustration.

“*Fat and smelly!*” Noir squawked, clearly reveling in Rody’s suffering. “*Fat, smelly, and balding!*”

Rody clutched his hair in disbelief. “I am NOT BALD!”

Noir bobbed its head aggressively. “*Bald! Bald Rody! You’ve got the head of a rotten egg! Just shiny and gross!*”

Vincent was now practically in tears laughing, clutching his sides. “You’ve really got to stop letting him get under your skin like this!”

Rody spun around to face him, hands in the air. “I am NOT letting him get under my skin, Vincent! He’s out here verbally abusing me in my own home!”

Noir screeched again, louder this time. “*YOUR home?! Ha! This ain’t your home, mooching loser! Freeloader! Sponging off Vincent like a lazy piece of sh—!*”

“ALRIGHT, THAT’S IT!” Rody stomped over to the kitchen, yanking open drawers and rifling through them. “Where’s the spray bottle?! I’m soaking this little gremlin!”

Noir flapped its wings in defiance, taunting, “*Spray me?! HAH! You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, you dumb sack of garbage!*”

Rody’s hands shook as he rooted through the drawers. “Where is it? WHERE IS IT?!”

Vincent was practically rolling on the couch now, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “You’re really gonna spray him? He’s just a bird, Rody!”

Noir, puffed up with newfound confidence, squawked, “*Just a bird? No, I’m a damn legend! Unlike you, you dumb, ugly, no-good, BALD sack of crap!*”

Rody froze mid-rummage, turning to glare at the bird. “I. AM. NOT. BALD!”

Noir snickered, “*Not yet, but it’s coming! I can see the future! Rody’s gonna be shinier than a cue ball! Fat, bald, and broke! Ha! Triple threat of loser!*”

Rody groaned in agony, slamming the drawer shut. “I swear, Vincent, I’m going to lose it. This bird’s gonna drive me to therapy!”

Noir let out another obnoxious cackle. “*Therapy?! You need more than therapy! Maybe some brain cells too, you idiot! You useless sack of crap! You stuuuuupid human!*”

“I HAVE A COLLEGE DEGREE!” Rody shouted back at the bird, now wildly pointing at his own head. “I AM NOT STUPID!”

Noir’s eyes narrowed. “*Oh yeah? What’d you major in? Being a DUMBASS?! Ha-ha-ha!*” The bird flapped its wings so hard it nearly fell off its perch.

Vincent wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “Rody, maybe he’s got a point. You *are* letting a parrot roast you.”

“Roast me?! He’s verbally setting me on fire!” Rody howled, throwing his arms in the air.

Noir, seizing the moment, let out a squawk. “*Burn, Rody, burn! You’re toast! Crispy! A real idiot sandwich! Rody the BALD toast man!*”

Rody turned on his heel. “That’s it, I’m done. I’m getting noise-cancelling headphones and locking myself in the bathroom.”

As he stormed off, Noir gave one last, triumphant squawk: “*Good riddance, ya dumb, bald loser! Go cry in your bathroom, you little baby!*”

Rody slammed the door behind him.

Noir turned its head to Vincent, completely calm. “*Love you, Vinnie.*”

The hell was this??? I don’t remember any of this being in the syllabus 😭