Aaron the Angry Alligator
Aaron was a small creature by alligator standards, a mere four feet long, but he wasn’t the kind of guy others tended to pick on for his size. Aaron, you see, was very angry. Smacking his tail against the brackish waters of Scrubby Palm Nature Preserve in Florida, fiercely snapping his jaws at anyone who came near, Aaron was a pretty unpopular guy in the alligator community.
“Yo, Aaron…new guy dude, I’m Polly the Peaceful Parrot,” she squawked. “What’s the matter wit’ you?”
“Mind your own business,” he snapped.
“Come on, talk to me. I’m here to help.”
“Shut up, Bird.”
“Well, la-de-da. Ain’t you nice?”
Polly squawked a couple of times and flew away. Aaron figured that was his last chance to tell someone about his problems, but dumping serious subjects on a frivolous, flighty bird just didn’t seem right.
“Squawk! I’m back. Are you sure you don’t want to talk?”
“Okay, okay. Humans threw me in here after I went swimming in the pool at one of their new apartment complexes by the Glades.”
“So that’s why you’re mad? Cause you got moved from a little pool of fresh water full of chemicals to this beautiful, safe place with acres and acres of space to move around?”
“I reckon so.”
“That’s just stupid.”
“I thought you said you were peaceful. You’re pissing me off.”
“I’m peaceful. See?” Polly preened her feathers and fluffed her wings.
“That pool was built right on top of my favorite mud bank. They squeezed out the water and built houses and shopping centers….and swimming pools.”
“Aw, poor baby. You need to get over it and stop being so cranky.” She squawked and flew away.
Aaron smacked his tail on the surface of the water and snapped his jaws shut so hard he bit his tongue. Sometimes angry doesn’t feel so good.
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