Bill Hicks: Missing parrot scene

It's 1994. Bill Hicks is ambling down a sidewalk in a back suburb of Los Angeles.

He notices a flyer pinned to a tree, bottom fringed with tiny slips of paper. He stops and stares at it.

It’s a poster for a missing parrot. With a photo of the parrot posing outside a cage. Apparently it answers to the name ‘Clarence’. There’s a reward of $500. And a phone number repeated on each slip, ruffling in the light breeze. None are torn off.

Bill scratches his head. Is this a joke? Is this pet owner an idiot? How can anyone imagine that anyone can find a parrot in a city? Or anywhere for that matter?

He looks up and down the street. Then up and over the trees. And finally up into the piercing blue sky.

There are no birds, no planes, no clouds. He looks back at the flyer. The blue sky behind him shifts.

Bill plucks the flyer off the tree and begins folding it origami-like into a bird. He tucks the wings back and bends the beak forward so it looks like a paper parrot. Places it in a branch and smiles at his handiwork. Then plucks one of the slips of paper like a feather from the tail. Pops it in his shirt pocket. Hey, $500 is $500.

>> In a later scene, Bill is pacing his apartment, anxious over his lack of money. A parrot lands on his balcony, cocks its head.


What the fuck you looking at?

Bill can’t believe it, franticlaly pats down his pockets. Retrieves the slip of paper from his shirt pocket with the phone number to call for the reward when Clarence swoops in, bites it out of his fingers and flaps away.

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