Bill the Ostrich
I have an ostrich. His name is Bill. He follows me around, with my finger in his beak, whenever I don't need it. If I need to use my finger, I tap him firmly on the head with a toothbrush and he opens his mouth. Or at least that's how it used to be.
HAVE A WORD WITH LIAM.
AHVE A WORD WITH MIAL.
LIAM, LION, THE AMTTMTTMTMME!
One day, I lost the toothbrush. I looked everywhere. I looked under my bed 18 times. The toothbrush was gone. I bought a toothbrush whistle that was "Guaranteed to make all the toothbrushes come running towards you when you blow it!" But when I blew it nothing happened. Then, a piece of dental floss approached me timidly. I tapped Bill on the head with it, and he ignored it. Alas, the whistle appeared to be faulty. I swallowed i t.
I tried to type on my keyboard. Every time I tried to type with the finger that Bill was clamped on, he flew through the air and landed with a SMACK on the keyboard. Needless to say, it was difficult.
When I finished typing, I looked at the computer screen, and found that the full value of pi had been typed out on it. Steam was billowing out from between the keys, and from under the mouse. I noticed that, if I scrolled down far enough, there was a point where all the 6's in the number lined up, forming a shape that looked remarkably like a toothbrush.