Honk Honk Motherfucker
The Goose, the Karen and the Catchpole
A story every bit as good as the one C.S. Lewis wrote! A future classic you might just click on and skim for 26 whole seconds!
On 23/01/24 at approximately 1015 hours, 911 dispatchers received a call about an out-of-control animal at the Peabrain Children’s Library. Officers Ivan Velky [badge # 302], Thiago Araujo [ badge #111] and August Rhys [badge #712] arrived on the scene at 1021 hours, along with paramedic Maeve Price [Employee ID # 000–157–2]. The following is a collection of recorded statements which have been transcribed for the incident report.
INTERVIEW #1
Officer Velky: How you feelin’? Need some water or anything? Any first aid?
Esperanza Cisneros [ library assistant, age 24]: No, no — I think I’m fine. I was able to stay hidden from Sneezewort pretty much the whole time.
O.V: Sneezeworg?
E.C: Sneezewort. That’s the name of the bird.
O.V: Where did you hide?
E.C: I had time to dive behind the life-size cardboard cut-out of Levar Burton you saw in our Tulip Room. It’s where all special library activities are held, including the monthly Story Reading events.
O.V: And you’re the one who placed the 911 call, correct?
E.C: Yes. I was whispering to the woman who picked up. I was terrified. I don’t know how well geese can hear.
O.V: Quite well, apparently. You’re lucky. But why didn’t anyone else even attempt to reach emergency services during the panic? Several parents were present as well. They must all have mobile devices. Your call was the only one coming through from this location.
E.C: Everyone else but me was exposed. Sitting ducks for the goose. Sneezewort had already eyeballed them before they had a chance to take cover. He wasn’t allowing anyone he noticed to move; he’d attack whoever tried. Also, the parents didn’t actually have their phones with them.
O.V: Why not?
E.C: It’s Tulip Room policy; phones must be left in a bin at the front desk before entering. We encourage immersion in our activities and advocate for less screen time — for kids and adults! Library workers are exempt from the rule, but “library workers” are usually just Edie and myself. Edie doesn’t own a cell phone and never has. She can’t be bothered. Oh, Edie! I’m worried about her! Can you tell me how she is?
O.V: She’s in the back of the ambulance with Maeve — with the paramedic. She’s being asked some questions right now, same as you, but she’s been given something for the pain and has had her vitals checked. She’ll be brought to the hospital as a precaution, but Maeve says the worst of it is a sprained wrist, some abrasions to her face and maybe a couple of bruised ribs.
E.C: Edie’s been the librarian here since 1976. Peabrain would be nothing without her! She should absolutely not be blamed for what happened this morning. She got Sneezewort out of desperation because a few of the shittier parents had threatened Peabrain and her position. She wanted to appease them! Sorry, I just swore — can I swear? I can’t help it! These people threatened an elderly lady. Can you believe it? Plus, she was super brave when everything went haywire.
O.V: How so? Was she not incapacitated early on?
E.C: She was Sneezewort’s first victim, yes, and she got the full brunt of his rage. But it didn’t stop her from distracting him when he was going after kids! There was a bookcase near where she fell, and she pulled out whatever books she could access from the bottom shelf. She used all her strength to throw them at Sneezewort. She wanted his attention back on her so children would be spared. For Edie to throw books — to disrespect the books like that? You know the situation had to be dire. I remember her needing to take the afternoon off once when a book was returned with a Roblox sticker on the inside cover. Nobody cares about books like she does, but she showed no hesitation. Dr. Seuss, Judy Blume, Shel Silverstein — they weren’t just saving children’s literacy today; they were saving lives.
INTERVIEW # 2
Edie Fletcher [ librarian, age 74]: Suuuuuny day! Sweepin’ the clouds awaaaay!
Officer Araujo: You have a lovely singing voice, Edie. Can you put the performance on pause for a minute, though, to talk with me?
E.F: On my way to where the air is sweeeeeeet!…Maeve, honey, I think the medicine you gave me is working!
Maeve Price: I’m glad! But Officer Araujo wants to know more about how you got hurt this morning. Do you think you could chat with him for a bit?
E.F: This man? This man right here?
O.A: Yes, Edie, hello. I’m Officer Araujo. It’s nice to meet you!
E.F: I’d much prefer if you called me Mrs. Fletcher. Thank you very kindly!
O.A: I apologize! I’ll do that from now on. I didn’t intend to be rude.
E.F: Well, you were. What’s the matter? What’s your question?
O.A: I have more than one question, Mrs. Fletcher. First and foremost, I’m wondering why there was a goose at your library today?
E.F: Mother Goose was the theme of this month’s Story Hour. Ergo, sir, there was a goose! I was to read nursery rhymes aloud to the children — The Cat and the Fiddle, Mary Mary Quite Contrary. All the hits. The goose would join me as a companion. I arranged for him and me to have matching bonnets; I made Esperanza find a good one for Sneezewort online and order it. It came from a shop for small dog costumes, but the sizes worked for geese, too. The circumference of a goose’s head isn’t very different from a Schipperke. That was my estimation, anyway. Children are excited by the sight of live animals. It was supposed to be a special surprise! I thought Sneezewort would follow me into the Tulip Room and hunker down beside my chair while I read. Maybe he’d waddle around and explore a little. Maybe the children could pet him gently. Things did not go according to plan, obviously.
O.A: Yeah, geese aren’t too friendly. Certainly not kid-friendly. Not really people-friendly at all.
E.F: I’ve learned that the hard way. No need to rub it in!
O.A: Was this the first time a live animal was part of an event at Peabrain?
E.F: Yes, and it will be the last! The library may get sued now. I’ll probably have to retire in shame! Sneezewort is my Waterloo. I could’ve settled on bringing in a toy goose. A plushie of some kind. But it wouldn’t have been enough. A real goose had a wow factor. I know Esperanza had her doubts, though she continued supporting me — sweet girl!
O.A: What’s the bird’s name again? Sneezewar?
E.F: Sneezewort, son. Clean your ears!
O.A: This wasn’t your personal goose, was it?
E.F: My goose? Of course not! Do you not have to go through some sort of examination to become a police officer? Don’t you have to be somewhat intelligent?
O.A: Where’d the bird come from, Mrs. Fletcher?
E.F: …The time has come, then? Hasn’t it? To confess!
O.A: Confess to what?
E.F: Confess about an illegal purchase! A back alley animal rental! The first crime I’ve ever committed! I thank the good Lord my husband isn’t around to see how low I’ve sunk. How disgusted my beloved Jasper would be!
O.A: Whoa, slow down, Mrs. Fletcher! Who rented you a goose?
E.F: He never told me his real name. Said to call him Webber on account of Sneezewort’s webbed feet. He’s a worker at an animal sanctuary — Gaia’s Bosom, just a half hour out of town. Animal sanctuaries don’t usually rent out their animals, but he has a hustle going on behind his employer’s back. He claims to have been at it for a few years. If you have the money, he’ll loan you the creature — as long as it’s returned in the same condition it left. An animal for any occasion! Birthday parties, outdoor festivals, photo shoots, or to impress a first date…a different cost depending on the occasion and the animal. I met him at night. He had three geese for me to choose from in the back of his work van. I picked the most classic-looking one. I wore a disguise, but I was still trembling! It was $400 to keep Sneezewort for two days.
O.A: …Mrs. Fletcher, to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure whether to believe you. I can’t quite tell if this is you or the morphine talking.
E.F: It’s no drug-induced fantasy, officer! I swear to it! Go to Gaia’s Bosom and bring back up! Look for the young fellow wearing a t-shirt that says Wiz Khalifa across it! I only met him in person twice, but he had on the same shirt both times. I initially tried to make small talk and asked if Khalifa was among the great Persian poets, perhaps one I hadn’t gotten around to yet. Webber told me “I suppose he’s a poet, but I don’t think he’s Persian.” I wanted to know if Webber also enjoyed Hafez and Shams Tabrizi, but Webber said he hadn’t “listened to either of their albums.” I caught on that he was likely speaking in code, due to the unlawful aspect of our rendezvous!
O.A: I’ll….I’m definitely taking notes.
E.F: Good. And will you be arresting me now?.
O.A: I don’t think so.
E.F: My Waterloo!!!!!!
M.P: Mrs. Fletcher, please — please, it’s better if you relax. Stop yelling! You might injure yourself more!
O.A: She’s right, Mrs. Fletcher. Take a deep breath!
E.F: I should’ve trusted Esperanza’s gut! She was helping put the bonnet on Sneezewort before the library opened. It was such a struggle — he didn’t care how charming he’d look, bloody bird. He’s heavier than some of the toddlers who come through here, and during our struggle, he shat. He did a horrible green shit while Esperanza held him, and it got all over her hands! I’m convinced he did it because he hated us, not because he really had to go. He was punishing us, and it was just the beginning. After washing the fowl’s foulness off her hands and returning from the bathroom, Esperanza said, “We can still cancel today, you know.” And I said, “I can’t! I simply can’t!”
O.A: What specifically made you feel such pressure? What pushed you to connect with this Webber character?
E.F: There were parents. A faction of parents. They were displeased with the direction the Story Reading events were going in. They approached me before the new year and claimed I was making the events “woke.” I was scrambling the children’s brains. The books I chose were sending the wrong message. They’d never bring their children to our events again if I failed to change course. They’d go to the news. They’d go to the city council. They’d see me replaced! They wanted to see traditional stories in 2024 or else. I thought, “What could be more traditional than Mother Goose?”
M.P: Alrighty, Mrs. Fletcher! We’re ready to drive to the ER and get you admitted for a more thorough check-up. Officer Araujo may have more questions for you later, but we’ll say goodbye for now!
O.A: That’s my cue to leave! Thank you for being patient and forthcoming with me, Mrs. Fletcher. I do hope you feel better soon.
E.F: You’re welcome, officer …it’ll be nice to shut my eyes for a tiny bit; I’m terribly groggy all of a sudden. I might be handcuffed to my damn hospital bed when I wake up! You’re very handsome, by the way. Not the brightest, it seems, but handsome. I take back what I said earlier — go ahead and call me Edie!
INTERVIEW # 3
Officer Rhys: How long have you worked for animal control?
Dennis Ackerly [ animal control officer, age 51]: A smidge over twenty years. Since the early 2000s.
O.R: Wow, you’re very experienced — I’m sorry, Mr. Ackerly, you can’t vape in here. Can you put that away? We’re in a children’s library.
D.A: Ah, hell. Sure, sure — give me a sec. There! It’s gone.
O.R: I appreciate your cooperation. Now, with your decades of experience, where would you rank today’s episode with Buglewort? If you compared it to your run-ins with other animals?
D.A: What, are you doing a survey? Heh heh! I’m only joshing — also, I think it’s Sneezewort.
O.R: Pardon me?
D.A: The goose, its name. It’s “Sneeze”, not “Bugle.” Sneezewort.
O.R: Huh. Ok. Both names sound like they belong to professors from Harry Potter, don’t they? Pretty fitting for this environment.
D.A: You ain’t wrong. But you were asking where Sneezewort lands on the scale, weren’t you? I’ve dealt with worse — this was probably a six out of ten. A goose acting like a goose. I had to remove an opossum and her babies from a convent in the winter of ’09. Now there was a David vs. Goliath confrontation!
O.R: Do you know what type of goose Sneezewort is?
D.A: He’s a German breed, an Embden. They’re huge suckers; one of the largest. I’d peg this guy as being just shy of thirty pounds, maybe exactly thirty. Sure felt that way as I was hefting him into my truck. You saw the damage he did to that librarian; she was all banged up. Mustn’t be a very smart old gal — putting a frilly hat on a thirty-pound male Embden and unleashing him in a room full of kids. Kids are dumb, and geese are mean; what did she expect?
O.R: She meant well, I think. She didn’t knowingly bring an aggressive animal to Story Hour. I’ve heard geese can have attitudes, but it wouldn’t necessarily cross my mind to protect people from them. They don’t even have teeth. They aren’t like… pit bulls or something.
D.A: See, you and your cop buddies have the same issue as the librarian. You underestimated a goose. You proved it when you couldn’t get the bird off the premises and realized you needed animal control. Hubris, my handcuff-twirling friend! It’s what’ll do you in every time: plain, old hubris. Just because geese aren’t pit bulls doesn’t mean they’re pigeons. What reason was there to have Sneezewort here and dressed up, you know? Geese can’t read. He couldn’t benefit from this place!
O.R: A Mother Goose event had been scheduled. The kiddos were getting nursery rhymes read to them, and there was a real goose to elevate the ambience.
D.A: Aha. That fills in some blanks. A-Tisket A-Tasket. Georgie Porgie. I’m familiar. My kids liked a lot of those when they were ankle-biters, but it never made sense to me why a goose was associated with silly little ditties for human children. All those cutesy illustrations of kids riding on the back of a goose as it flew through the sky…seeing some anthropomorphic goose dressed like a Victorian woman, giving a neighbourly wave to a cow jumping over the fuckin’ moon! Not a lick of sense. Geese’ll fight to death for their goslings, but they’ll try to cause the death of just about anything else. What’s affable about a bird with the build of Louis Cyr and eyes the same shade as Kurt Barlow’s undead flesh??
The only way the character could’ve been worse is if it had been Mother Swan — don’t get me started on the centuries of misleading swan representation we’ve all been force-fed. Why not spring for Mother Capybara? How much more suitable can you get? Jesus, why not Mother Chocolate Lab!? You’d never hear a peep outta me!… Shit, I’m getting way too heated. Excuse me; I really have to step outside and finish my dose of nicotine. I suppose I should take a gander at Sneezewort while I’m at it; see how much of my truck interior he’s destroyed. Hey, I said take a gander — did you catch that? Get it? …Ah hell, you boys in blue need to lighten up!
INTERVIEW # 4
Officer Velky: You came to Peabrain today to enjoy the Mother Goose Reading Event with your son, correct?
Journee Hall [parent, age 28]: Yes, with Onyx. He’s three.
O.V: Was this your first time attending a Peabrain Story Hour?
J.H: Onyx and I have been to two others previously. I thought they went really well. The Tulip Room is bright and colourful, and the library assistant would bring out nut-free snacks… Onyx seemed very engaged. I was happy to discover they did these things every month for free. Then this morning happened, and…it’s a pity. It was so shocking. Total chaos. I’m just relieved Onyx is safe.
O.V: Was this the first time you’ve been through something of this nature?
J.H: Do you mean was this the first time I went to a library and essentially got held hostage by a goose? Are you kidding?
O.V: Please answer the question.
J.H: OK, not kidding. Yes. This was the first time I’ve ever been in such a situation. 100%.
O.V: You were one of the earliest to arrive for the event, meaning you witnessed everything that went down from the onset. True or false?
J.H: True, more or less.
O.V: Care to tell me what happened from your perspective? How did it kick-off? The chronology?
J.H: Um, sure. We — the parents and kids — were all sitting cross-legged on the floor in the Tulip Room in front of this old-fashioned rocking chair. Everyone was in a good mood. The librarian entered in her Mother Goose ensemble, and kids clapped and screamed — they were excited screams for the time being. She was in character, so the kids didn’t recognize her. She greeted them warmly, saying, “Let me introduce you all to my dear friend who assisted in creating all my rhymes!” And there was a goose. Like, a real goose.
There’d been no warning about this. The kids went nuts. They loved it. I’ve never seen a goose before in real life. It was really big? It was in a little fancy bonnet. It slowly walked to the rocking chair, stopping every few steps to look around; I think the different levels of noise made it a little wary. One kid broke loose from his mom and managed to touch the goose before he could be snatched back, and the goose hissed — it hissed at the child. I didn’t love that, but the librarian laughed it off — kind of nervously, in retrospect — and lured the goose over to her with some shredded lettuce. She pulled it out of her pocket. She took a seat eventually, and the goose stood quietly beside her for a few solid minutes. It amused itself by pecking stuff out of the carpet.
The librarian opened a picture book to the first page and held it up to show the room. I feel the kids were distracted by the goose, honestly. We got through hearing Hickory Dickory Dock. The goose decided to honk, and it startled a lot of us. The librarian looked flustered and tossed more lettuce, but it wasn’t doing the job. The goose seemed…very alert. And restless. One little one behind me started to whine and fidget, which made me start sweating. The librarian was able to read two lines from Wee Willie Winkie, and… [she snaps her fingers.]
O.V: And what?
J.H: The goose straightened its body — I don’t know how to best explain it — and outstretched its wings. It seemed to fill the whole room in an instant. Like an evil angel. It flapped its wings rapidly a few times, and I heard some gasps. People drew back. The librarian used this soothing voice on it as if she were in one of those corny police shows where someone has to be talked off a ledge while Drive by Incubus or whatever is playing in the background — you know that old song? No offence.
O.V: No offence meant for implying I’m old or for calling police procedurals corny?
J.H: Both.
O.V: None taken. Go ahead, continue.
J.H: The goose rounded on the librarian. It pounced on her. I couldn’t see her face anymore, just this… thrashing white mass. I could barely hear her muffled cries above the thunder of honks! I just stared. My jaw was hanging open, and Onyx clung to me.
The librarian tried to fight the goose off, and she fell forward out of the rocking chair in the process. The chair fell on top of her. The goose flapped away just in time to avoid being crushed under the chair as well. People were darting around me, running back and forth — trying to hide, shouting for their kids, looking for anything resembling a weapon. I scooped up Onyx and rushed to the librarian to see how hurt she may be, but the goose saw me trying to help her and charged at me. I had to back off; I had to put Onyx first. The fallen librarian was like the goose’s prize; nobody else could touch her! If you tried to leave the room? Bam! Goose on your ass.If you made any sudden movement at all or approached the librarian? Same thing. It could smell our fear. It was drunk on the power it had over us. It was still in the bonnet.
The initial wave of hysteria started to ebb. People shushed their kids and sat back down in a daze. The goose watched us, and I could tell it wanted everyone to sit and shut up. The agonizing wait began. We waited for rescue from the outside or for one of us to be courageous again. For the goose to get bored, maybe. It paced as it kept tabs on us; because of the thick carpet, its feet didn’t make that slap-slap sound you’d expect, which I believe would’ve made it a little less intimidating.
The whiny little kid from earlier got to whining again. His mother was desperate to silence him, but he couldn’t grasp the crisis and wouldn’t quit. The goose lowered its head, flattened its wings against its side and came at the kid like a feathery torpedo! Women shrieked. Onyx buried his face in my chest And then, like a miracle, a copy of Percy Jackson arced through the air and landed in the goose’s path! It confused everyone, but most importantly it confused the goose. It froze in its tracks, and disaster was temporarily averted.
O.V: It was the librarian who threw the book. Mrs. Edie Fletcher.
J.H: That first one, and many others. She apparently had the wind knocked out of her when she fell but wasn’t knocked unconscious. She crawled from under the rocking chair and dragged herself to a bookcase. She was removing books and trying to hit the goose with them. She wanted him to turn on her again and forget the rest of us. Really amazing stuff.
O.V: Did you know the library assistant was calling 911 from a hiding spot?
J.H: I could tell someone had gotten behind the cut-out of the Reading Rainbow man, but I didn’t know who it was or what they were up to — other than hiding. Until you guys barged in, I had no clue 911 had been contacted. I didn’t think anyone had their phone in there. I remember the dad shouting at you to kill the goose, but you opted not to. I got the vibe you wanted to contain the goose rather than straight-up kill it.
O.V: Lethal force would’ve been riskier than it was worth. It’s challenging to make a clear-sighted assessment when the adrenaline is pumping, but it’s what we’re trained to do. Shooting the animal in front of the children would’ve traumatized them more. Besides, bullets flying in an enclosed space are always hazardous. The library would need to pay a professional cleaner to get the blood and gristle out of the carpeting, and Peabrain runs on a modest amount of public funding. The Tulip Room would be out of commission afterward — it would be a real hassle.
As for tasing, it barely seemed any less messy. Sneezewort would likely still die, and his carcass could have burned — our goose would be cooked, literally, and it might turn the kids off ever eating chicken again. I didn’t want that on my conscience! So yes, containment and a call to the Humane Wildlife Control Department were deemed the next best thing.
J.H: You trapped the goose in a bathroom, and two of you leaned against the door to keep it closed until that Dennis guy showed up with a catchpole.
O.V: …Yes, Ma’am. That is what we did.
J.H: Also…Sneezewort?
O.V: It’s the name the goose was given, Ma’am. Wouldn’t be my first pick, mind you, but it is what it is.
INTERVIEW # 5
Gemma Murphy [parent, age 31]: Will she be arrested or what?
Officer Araujo: Mrs Murphy, is your first name spelt J-e-m-m-a or G-e-m-m-a?
G.M: It’s just spelt the normal way!
O.A: G-e-m-a?
G.M: G-e-m-m-a! Two m’s! My God! Why are you ignoring my question?
O.A: I’m not ignoring anything, Mrs. Murphy; I just can’t afford to be loosey-goosey and land up with erroneous information in the report — apologies for the poor choice of adjective. It probably hits a little too close to home at the moment. Were you or your child injured at all prior to the arrival of animal control?
G.M: Not physically, no. But mentally? I was already battling the effects of long COVID — I’ve not been able to wake up before noon on a weekday for two years, ok? My husband has had to get the kids fed, drive them to school and get a second job. He can’t talk to me when he’s home again; I need to be left totally alone to watch 90 Day Fiancé: The Other Way in bed, or else I get heart palpitations. It’s been awful, and now I’m supposed to cope with the emotional fallout from this? That librarian needs to face some repercussions!
O.A: …And your daughter? Was she harmed?
G.M: Harmed? Of course, she was!
O.A: How badly? Was she looked over by our paramedic?
G.M: She was harmed mentally. Like I was. Worse than I was, actually! Oaklynn is a baby; there’s no telling how today’s events will ripple throughout her life!
O.A: So neither of you sustained physical injuries?
G.M: No. But we still deserve some justice, don’t we? Don’t all the children and parents subjected to the ridiculous stress from this morning deserve to be reassured somehow? That woman and her assistant knowingly put us in the same room as a large, dangerous animal! What if someone had died? What if one child had a feather allergy, huh? Did anybody think about that?
O.A: From what I’ve gathered, Mrs.Fletcher definitely made some overhasty and inadvisable decisions; she was playing with fire a little bit, and she glossed over the red flags she saw. However, she’s had a spotless record up until this point. She’s been a beloved fixture at Peabrain for nearly half a century. I interviewed her earlier, and she knows she was wrong to bring in the goose. She feels very guilty. She knows she may have to step back from her role here because of her actions, and ultimately she was the one who took the worst beating from Sneezewort. She’s at the hospital as we speak.
G.M: What the hell is a Sneezewort?
O.A: The goose is a Sneezewort. It’s his name, apparently.
G.M: Gross. And what I can gather from what you’ve gathered is that the old bag won’t be arrested. That’s just great!
O.A: Nothing is completely set in stone yet.
G M: It might as well be! Why else would you mention her spotless track record and how very, very guilty she feels! You’ve been manipulated by her sweet, little old-lady shtick. Let me tell you: Edie Fletcher feels guilty because she IS guilty. If you dug around a little more– — and did some proper investigating — you’d realize her record isn’t so immaculate. This isn’t her first time putting children in harm’s way, and she probably should’ve stepped down as librarian a long time ago. If things had gone my way sooner, today never would’ve happened because Edie would not have been in charge here anymore!
O.A: …Mrs Murphy, were you one of the parents who objected to the tone of past Story Hours? Edie Fletcher had received complaints concerning the books she was highlighting for the monthly events, and you — well, you sound like you’re complaining. Be transparent with me.
G.M: I don’t need to be coaxed into being transparent, officer. I’ve made no attempt to mask my distaste for Edie’s management or the assistant girl’s enablement of Edie. As a mother, it was my duty to raise the alarm when I noticed any inkling of inappropriate messaging. This is a space for children. This is a space funded by our tax dollars. Kids should be safe here from political proselytizing! They’re babies, and the old hag was trying to corrupt them. It took a lot of determination to illuminate the other parents; not all of them were on board, but there were enough of us by the end of last year to kick up a real stink! A righteous stink. It was no skin off my nose if some other mothers thought I was crazy or some nonsense. I had no need for those sheep!
O.A: Edie Fletcher was reading political books to the kids?
G.M: They weren’t political on the surface, obviously! It was, like, subliminal. Just behind the curtain. Insinuating stuff. Planting seeds to be sown at a later date — catch my drift? They have to try and get ’em while they’re young.
O.A: Can you list examples for me?
G.M: I have four words for you: Clifford. The. Big. Red. Dog.
O.A: That’s five words.
G.M: Oh my God, who cares! You’re focusing on the wrong thing, officer! Our children listened to Clifford’s Good Deeds and Clifford’s Manners last August in the Tulip Room. Esperanza made cupcakes with red dairy-free icing. Edie was decked in red from head to toe. Must I go on?
O.A: What’s the problem with red?
G.M: What’s the problem with red? CHINA is the problem with red! Communism! Clifford’s Good Deeds is China’s Good Deeds! It’s China’s Manners in comparison to our own. It’s propaganda teaching the kids how much “better” communism is to capitalism. Look how well-mannered the Chinese are! Look at all their good deeds, children! Wouldn’t you rather be like them instead of your Western filth parents?
O.A: Wow.. Just….wow.
G.M: Leaves you speechless doesn’t it? I doubt Edie was always so bad. Back in the ’70s and ’80s, I wouldn’t be surprised if she were delightful. Hell, even in the 90s! You’d be proud to bring your kids to Peabrain then. It’s too late now, though. Edie and this place are infected and spreading a disease. Esperanza is Gen Z, so she’s never known an uninfected place in all her days. She’s blind to the rot! Rot, in fact, is what’s right to the likes of her. The perfect accomplice!
O.A: The Clifford-themed event was the, uh, most egregious. Was it?
G.M: It’s a tie between the Clifford one and The Paper Bag Princess one. They thought they could get away with brainwashing the little girls into rejecting marriage and not caring about the way they dress or whether their legs are shaved. I’ll be damned if my Oaklynn grows up to be a single woman dancing off merrily into the sunset! There was a little arts and crafts segment before the reading even happened — all the kids were told to make princess crowns out of construction paper. All the kids! The boys, too! Every crown was called a “princess crown.” I was positively fuming. I rage-texted my husband about it the whole drive home — when I finally had my phone back!
O.A: Wait, you were texting and driving?
G.M: This goose fiasco was Edie becoming intolerably bold, but it backfired on her. To think she did this after she knew we parents were on to her and were ready to go to the press! The audacity! Being attacked by the angry bird like she was? Serves her right! Promoting Chinese communism and radical feminism wasn’t enough to satisfy her; she had to entice the kids with something even more degenerate — Furrydom. You’ll never get me to believe it was a coincidence that Edie and the goose were wearing matching bonnets. It was being communicated that she and the goose were one and the same. There’s no difference between animals and people! You can be an animal, too, kids, if you feel like one. The goose spoiled everything when it jumped on her; the programming for the day was cut short. She only threw around those books because if anything fatal had happened to a child, then all the indoctrination she’d poured into them would’ve gone to waste.
O.A: Welp. I think I’ve heard everything I need to hear from you, Mrs. Murphy — I really, really do. I can’t imagine you forgot a single important detail.
G.M: Oh, but I do have one more thing to add!
O.A: Seriously?
G.M: Yes, seriously. I observed the gentleman from Animal Control vaping. Indoors. In the library! Maybe you could write him a ticket or something. I think some discipline there would be warranted.
O.A: I bet you do!
[Oaklynn, 4, wanders up to her mother.]
G.M: Hi, baby! Hi, babylynn! [Mrs. Murphy picks up Oaklynn and props the girl on her hip.] You wanna go home, I know. It’s past your nap time — mine, too! I’m still talking with the police officer about our big, scary morning. You were so scared, weren’t you, babydoll? I know you were.
Would you like to tell Mr. Policeman how much you got scared by the bad birdie?
Oaklynn Murphy: It wasn’t a birdie, Mommy! It was a dinosaur! Rawwwwr! [Oaklynn smiles and giggles]
G.M: Oaklynn, it was called a goose. It wasn’t a dinosaur, baby, it —
O.M: –RAWR! The dinosaur was fun! I like how it hopped on the lady. It was funny how she fell down! The dinosaur stomped around, and his body was wiggling from side to side. I wish I was as big as him. He was all white with pretty blue eyes, and I wish he was my friend and we could go around scaring everybody until they sat on the floor and stayed on the floor!
