c/o The ROOSTER
Somewhere North of my residence.
As a modern man, I am reasonable accepting of other lifeforms and their possibly bizarre rituals or traditions. For example, I both accept and embrace expats of New York or Chicago, who seem to never tire of extolling the virtues of their city of origin while not actually living in it. I am also fond of librarians and their index cards, whether printed or digital, and can even tolerate so-called “Foodies” as long as they maintain an appropriate distance (usually around 50 feet, depending on voice volume).
Now, with my bonafides established, I would like to lodge my complaint.
Whatever possessed your race (presumably millennia ago) to invent the screeching call you insist on perpetrating everyday at the break of dawn, surely we can all agree that, given your current sub- or semi-urban circumstances, the time for such barbarism is now past.
In this modern world of ours we have a large number of items that are designed to wake people up as well as put them to sleep, in the form of smartphones, State of the Union addresses (both live and recorded), alarm clocks, movies starring Steven Seagal, or the occasional blunt instrument. I have no doubt that Fowl in general and Roosters in particular would be equally well served by any of the products that can be procured for little expense at your local Wal-Mart or Barn, Pottery or otherwise. Furthermore, were you to resist this notion one could almost call your obsessive clinging to this forgotten Alarm-Clock-less past pitiful, and you, Sir/Madam, a Luddite. And I do not believe that Sir/Madam wishes this notion to propagate among your contemporaries.
I am a gentleman; I do not wish to escalate matters. However, at this point I must inform you that, should you continue in this course of action, I will be forced to take measures to end this daily attack on the senses. These include, but may not be limited to: SEAL HALO drops on your present location, various types of artillery, grenades, arrows (both wooden and metallic), colored confetti, and low-yield nuclear-tipped ICBMs. Should you persist beyond that point I am also prepared to deploy offensive mechanisms banned by the Geneva Conventions, for example, non-stop rebroadcasts of Jersey Shore at high volume in your general direction.
I beg that you will listen to reason and relent, before the madness consumes us all.
PS: by “SEAL” I don’t mean the cute animals that hang out in pools at the Zoo or the Marina clapping at the tourist folk, and by “HALO” I don’t mean the critically-acclaimed game from Bungie. Although a shower of marine creatures and DVDs would probably range from inconvenient to downright annoying, it’s far tamer than what I am actually referring to.
PPS: Somehow it has gotten in to my head that when not “roosting” (or whatever your call the screeching) you actually speak with the voice of Sir Sean Connery. Should this be accurate, please let me know. I am not about to declare war on 007. I am not a moron.
PPPS: Jimmy McMillan 2016.