This story wishes it was as good as yurgenburgens.
Mikey was a simple boy. One of basic pleasures and straightforward acts. You wouldn't call him an upstanding citizen but nor would you call him an immoral mongrel. Despite this, few people knew how to take him and he often found himself drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick.
On this particular Sunday of cold winter, as he was sitting on the fence of the park, placing the finishing touches on a dinosaur (which he'd painstakingly made 3D as it had been raining that day and the dirt was manageable), a most peculiar pelican flew overhead. Its powerful frame momentarily cast a broad shadow over Mikey's ferocious but inanimate beast. Distracted, Mikey gazed upward and watched as the pelican descended from the skies and landed right in front of him.
"Please don't hurt me. I can't be held responsible for the acts of my brachiosaur were I to befall an ill fate." Mikey managed to splutter as he cowered before the majestic pelican.
The pelican stood there for a few moments, unsure how to take this odd boy who spent his time playing in the dirt. After looking at the dirt, then Mikey, then the dirt again, then back to Mikey, then the dirt, then finally Mikey again, the pelican confidently stated "That's a cat son."
Mikey swore, which was unusual for a boy of his nature. The pelican felt a little bad about crushing the boy's fun like that, but when you spend a large portion of your time in the air you begin to develop a certain no-nonsense kind of attitude that really sets you apart from the rest.
"Don't be afraid my child. I am but an affable air rider and I mean you no misfortune. But I am here with a purpose. Please, mount my back, as there are places I must take you and time is not on our side."
Mikey looked down at the courteous bird, a little confused. The pelican was barely half his size, yet he believed he was capable of carrying a young teenage human?
"Are you sure?" Mikey questioned. "We seem a little... out of proportion for that kind of thing."
"Have you already turned your back on imagination? Come, we are needed." The pelican opened its wings, indicating where Mikey should place himself.
Very unsure about the whole situation, Mikey slowly approached the pelican and put himself into position. He figured he wasn't doing much today anyway so he wasn't going to miss much. Except maybe dinner if he didn't get back on time, but he'd been made to miss dinner before when he was very, very rude to his mother, so he knew he could handle it.
From nowhere, excitement began to course through Mikey's veins with the speed and strength of ten thousand jaguars. He looked down at his arms and could see his veins pulsing. It actually kind of hurt. Losing himself in the moment, he violently brought himself onto the pelican. Not left with enough time to let out a squawk, the pelican was flattened dead under Mikey's weight.
Mikey was lying on the ground, a pool of blood slowly stretching from him. He'd ruined his clothes. Pelican gizzards don't come out in the wash. As he gazed into the skies, he began to laugh. People walking by were highly disturbed, but they'd never known how to take Mikey so they kept walking and just muttered to themselves about how strange that young man was. Mikey wasn't seen for the rest of the day.
Every Sunday after that, you could find Mikey sitting on the fence of the park, drawing pictures in the dirt. He didn't draw dinosaurs anymore. Or cats. Or dinosaur cats. He drew a magnificent pelican flying through the clouds, a simple boy on its back.