Dingles: \"What in the name of all things holy?\"

When he was done with that song, Dirk asked the audience, "Since most
of us plan on being here all night, are there any requests? I can
play anything as long as it's from "Frampton Comes Alive." Just
kidding folks. Put a dollarpound in the jar and watch me play and
listen to me sing."
From where he was strategically perched above the stage, Mr Dingles
let out a metallic squawk - just loud enough to temporarily deafen -
and hopped forward, dropping ungracefully to the ground with a heavy
metallic *krunch!* He scuttled to the the jar and lifted one hobbled
together wing, facing outwards at the gathered drunkards.
"If any dosh so much as comes near this jar, I'll personally make
sure every single one of you humanoid gimboids visits the infirmary."
He narrowed the vision slits slowly over the already beady eyes set
into the hillariously shaped head, eyeing each of the throng
personally.
One stupid crewman stood up. "I bet you smeggin' would, eh Polly? You
want a cracker, eh?" The goofnut turned to his friends and chuckled
dimwittedly before sitting back down.
With one deft maneuver of beak and wing, the jar was sent hurtling
towards the ill-mannered human. It smashed against his forehead,
knocking him down from his chair and splaying him comically across
the floor. "Right!" he screeched, wheeling to face Dirk. "Now... If
you know 'Star Trekkin' I promise I won't remove those googly excuses
for eyes..."
(Posted by: Troy)
(Reply from: Whoever's in the Parrot, Dirk)
OOC: I suppose from that you've guessed that Dingles isn't the most
good natured of pets... Ah well ;) Give me a while to slip into the
insanity of the RP, so I can proudly call myself, a Dwarfer.
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Rimmer: "And we've got... We've got..."
Lister: "Our red alert bulb."
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