writing-555

[writing-555]

We Out Here, Lulling and Sissing

Once upon a time, Fugo was out in the orchard, lulling and sissing beneath the plum trees. Just doing his thing.

That’s when Jugo came strutting in and asked, “Hey, why are you out here lulling and sissing?”

Fugo looked up and replied, “Why not? I’m the pink boss bird. I can lull and sis all I want.”

Jugo shook his head. “No, no, no. I’m the only one who can lull and sis. You can’t do it like me. If you try again, I’ll fight you.”

So they puffed up their feathers, flapped their wings, and charged at each other. They fought until they were too tired to keep going and both collapsed under the apple tree.

The next day, Jugo came back, this time blowing and sizzing near the orchard’s edge. Fugo saw him and called out, “Hey! You can’t just love and sis like that! Only I can do that.”

Jugo squawked back, “Why don’t you stop me then?”

They fought again. Flapping. Pecking. Tumbling through the grass. And this went on—day after day, week after week—for a whole year.

At the beginning, Fugo had some bald patches, but Jugo still had all his feathers. By the end of that year, both of them were completely bald. They couldn’t even tell each other apart.

One day, Fugo asked, “Wait... are you Jugo or Fugo? Because only Fugo is allowed to lull and sis.”

Jugo replied, “I don’t know anymore. But I’m pretty sure only Jugo can do that.”

They looked at each other, confused. Just as they were about to fight again, a little cartoon light bulb appeared over both their heads.

“Wait a minute,” Fugo said. “If we can’t tell who’s who, then we can’t say who’s allowed to lull and sis!”

“Exactly,” Jugo nodded. “So maybe we should both be allowed to lull and sis. Or maybe nobody should.”

They looked at each other. Thought about it. And then, for the first time in a year, they both smiled.

From that day forward, Jugo and Fugo stopped fighting. If you visit the orchard now, you might still see them—each under their own tree, lulling and sissing in peace, in perfect harmony.

Post-Story: The Cabaret Star

Since the writing prompt time wasn’t quite up yet, let’s flash forward.

Chugo—possibly a distant cousin—was on stage, wearing a tiny top hat, performing a cabaret. You know, one of those old-school, jazz-dance-theater kinds of shows. He twirled under one wing, spun in circles, danced to ragtime music that played loud and proud from the speakers.

The crowd was full of chickens, guinea chickens, and a bunch of noisy geese. The chickens clapped their wings politely. The geese were loud and rowdy, honking and screeching over the music. But Chugo didn’t mind. He just kept dancing.

He had a dream: to become the world’s number one ragtime star.

And he did. He danced and twirled his way all the way to Broadway, becoming known across the country as The Dancing Turkey. His songs sold in the millions. He performed in packed theaters. He even collaborated with legends like Michael Jackson, Billie Eilish, and Billy Joel.

And so the legend of the lulling, sissing birds—and one dancing turkey—lives on.