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Tank's Dad Totally Owns a Dealership






Tank, the English budgie, is a funny little guy. He's so talkative and high-energy, but he mainly restricts his conversation to fishing for compliments and his seemingly limitless energy on toy-centered pursuits.

Who's a good bird? Who's a good Tanky? Tanky's a good bird.

The logic is plain and undeniable, in fact when you get down to it he's basically telling you the simple truth: Tanky is a good Tanky. We should all be so fortunate to feel that way about ourselves.

Yet for all the truth he speaks, there is something a bit sinister about the Tank. It's hard to put my finger on it since he'd probably take a bite, but it's more than his stylish pompadour or face dots the size of salad plates. No, there is something inside Tanky that wants to be more; to be a god.

The evidence:

Exhibit A: that middle picture was no accidental photograph. It was taken mere moments after I informed Tanky that I was onto him. He turned quickly to give me his right eye, his evil eye. I could feel the electricity surge down my spine as he looked deep into my soul. And he gave it a nip.

Exhibit B: the final photograph is an unretouched image Rowan captured during what we assumed was a normal playtime staredown between Tank and Sailor. Rowan didn't notice anything when she took the picture, but when we loaded it onto the computer it revealed: mindbullets!

Tank was actually firing mindbullets at poor Sailor! The amazing thing was she seemed impervious to his attacks, as if she was surrounded by some sort of budge forcefield which protected her.

Lucky for Sailor she keeps Tank from realizing his true potential. Nay, lucky for us all.

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Copyright © 2005-2013 Graham Cranfield