When Brian returned home, he discovered his secret had gotten out. It clung to the ceiling above the couch, chittering and clacking its beak. He shut the door quickly. He couldn’t call anyone, not for this.
He tried a broom, but the secret was fast. He clambered on the furniture, knocking everything askew, leaving footprints on the cushions. It evaded his every attempt.
Brian was so engrossed that he didn’t hear the door open. Steve stared up at him.
“I can explain!” cried Brian. “It’s not actually mine…”
Steve chuckled. “You mean you didn’t know? It’s been out for years.”
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