Two Birds and No Stone

Don’t kill my birds.

Tommy pays taxes.

April runs a side hustle selling cursed bath bombs on Etsy.

They have dreams.

They have a 401k.

They just bought a tiny house in a haunted forest

and renovated it with vibes and vengeance.

Their children?

Bilingual.

Emotionally intelligent.

One of them levitates when he’s mad.

Can you say the same?

You—

Stone-thrower.

Life-ruiner.

Can’t parallel park.

Owns a single sock that says “Live Laugh Love”

but has never lived,

laughed,

or loved.

You tried to throw one stone and kill two birds—

Instead you tripped,

choked on your own spite,

and Tommy sued you for emotional damage.

Now you’re banned from 300 yards near any avian couple.

And April?

She started a podcast.

It’s called:

“How to Rebuild After a Human Tries to End You”

Guest episode: The stone.

He’s in therapy now.

So yeah.

Keep your stone.

I’ll keep my birds.

Two birds.

No stone.

Infinite rage.

And a restraining order.