The Great Beyond—In a Waterlogged Orange exclusive, our reporter, with the enthusiastic help of the celebrated medium Ms Ara Pena, had the unique opportunity to interview the infamous Pierre, the parrot who served aboard Captain Silver’s merchant vessel in the late 1700s. A bird once respected for his loyalty and sharp tongue, Pierre is now best remembered for orchestrating the demise of his beloved captain and a young crew member by the name of Pitt Petit—out of nothing more than sheer jealousy.
A Once-Loyal Feathered Friend
Pierre, who is still noticeably salty even in the afterlife, paints a picture of deep camaraderie between himself and Captain Silver. “He and I were tight,” Pierre squawks during the interview, conducted from the other side under the auspices of Ms Pena. “We were like brothers—no, better than brothers. Wherever the captain went, I was perched on his shoulder, offering advice, conversation, moral guidance, you name it. I was the captain’s confidant.”
But it all came to a crashing halt with the arrival of a young, charming crewman named Pitt Petit. “I saw it right away,” Pierre continues, his feathers ruffling with agitation. “Silver’s eyes gleamed in a way I’d never seen before. And soon, it wasn’t me he was turning to for company, nooo—suddenly Petit is the new favorite! I might as well have been a decorative ship’s figurehead.”
A Feathery Tale of Betrayal
What started as a simple jealousy soon escalated, with Pierre doing everything in his feathery power to drive a wedge between the two men. “I’d squawk at them whenever I could. Told them they were breaking all the rules—that their behavior and actions were immoral, indecent, and downright illegal! Did they listen? Of course not,” Pierre admits, his beak drooping. “I threatened them with hellfire, mutiny, you name it. But they were too busy swooning over each other to care. What a couple of fools.”
Eventually, Pierre took drastic action. He informed the rest of the crew about Silver and Petit’s illicit affair, a betrayal that would lead to a mutiny and ultimately to both men being sentenced to the cruel punishment of keelhauling. As the captain and Petit were dragged to their watery graves, Pierre recalls with a shiver, “I kept screeching, ‘What did I tell you? What did I tell you?’ over and over again. But in the end… I guess I didn’t want it to go that far.”
A Parrot’s Regret
Now, after centuries in the afterlife, Pierre confesses that perhaps his jealousy got the better of him. “Once they were gone, no one cared about me. I went from being the captain’s closest friend to just another bird in a cage. And I—well, I starved to death. No one cared enough to feed me. That’s how it ended. No squawking, no grandeur. Just an empty stomach.”
When asked if he regrets his actions, Pierre hesitated before fluffing his ghostly feathers. “Regret? I mean, sure, but can you blame me? Have you ever been replaced by a dashing young human? It’s not easy! Still, I suppose I might’ve gone a bit overboard. But let’s be real—Silver and Petit had it coming. If not me, someone else would’ve squealed. At least I got to do it with flair.”
A Cautionary Tale
As the interview wrapped up, Pierre offered some sage advice for those prone to fits of jealousy. “Don’t let a little rivalry get to your head. And don’t underestimate the power of a parrot with an axe to grind.”
Pierre’s afterlife remains mysterious, but he hinted that he’s still on the lookout for a new shoulder to perch on—preferably one that won’t abandon him for a handsome sailor.
