Tweety Case

Got around to watching Netflix's "Bird Box" last night.

It felt like the sort of thing Stephen King pops out on a Saturday afternoon when Tabitha is on his ass about cleaning the gutters. "Honey, they say it's supposed to rain this week, could you-"

"Tabby, I told you, I've got a great idea going, don't want to lose my train of thought. Call that neighbor kid, what's his name, Dusty? Cody?"

"It's Dakota, hon, but his mom says-"

His hip was aching again. What the fuck am I doing sitting on half a billion dollars, give or take, and she still wants me to handle the yardwork. Whatever, birds, little bit of "Cell," unexplained monster from "The Mist", it'll practically write itself, mentally scarred mother, yeah. "I told you, I've got a book due next month, my agent's been up my ass since New Years," hmm, maybe some crazies, don't forget a dash of diversity, "I've gotta get cracking on this thing, if Donny can't do it, just call that guy Garcia from the lawn care company."

"His name's Gonzales, and I don't think they handle-"

Of course, this wasn't written by Stephen King. Guess he helped with the gutters after all.