Chapter 3: The Smell of a Dead Parrot

At home, there was a note from his landlady: “Please come up, Carl, I will make you dinner, and then you can help me out with a new problem. Sally” He took time to shower and put on clean clothes. He picked up the mail, including envelopes addressed to “Dr. Sally Rossington.” Upstairs, he was admitted to Sally’s sweet-smelling kitchen.

“Thanks for coming up, Carl. Would you please set the table? The dishes and tableware are over there. “Sure, what’s cooking, Doc?” Sally rolled her eyes. “Table first, dinner second, questions third.”

Carl tucked in and enjoyed the home-cooked meal. After he bused the dishes, Sally said, “Before your questions, have a tasty morsel of my lemon meringue pie.”

“Yum! OK, Doctor of what, exactly?” “Education. I was a teacher, and then a principal.” “Really? What kind of school?” “Elementary, my dear Watson.” Carl grabbed his head and moaned.

“I walked right into that one. So, who are those people on the sideboard?” “Oh, that’s my brother Edward, and his daughters Helen, Teresa, Marianne, and Lisa. I’m their favorite Aunt.” “And their mother?” “Sadly, pancreatic cancer. But Ed has stepped up to be Super Dad.”

“And, if you don’t mind my asking, what about Mr. Dr. Rossington?” “Oh, Dale dumped me and took off with some floozy. Later, a bus ran him over and that was a mortal wound.”

“Besides Ed, I have another brother—but Jerry is kind of worthless. Which brings me to you. No dates, no children, not even a cat. But I know you can fix stuff. So, please go into my bedroom.”

“I beg your pardon?” “Don’t worry, just go in there and you’ll know what to do. First door on your left.”

Following instructions, he moved warily towards her bedroom. There was her big problem: a tower PC with a missing side cover and several obvious issues. A small CRT monitor with a green-only screen and a battered keyboard completed the wreckage.

“Let me guess, a gift from Jerry?” “Indeed.” “Do you have a fire extinguisher?” “Yes, in the kitchen.” “Please fetch it before I try waking this, uh, thing.“ After preparing the connections, he said, “Hold on to your butt.”

80286 BIOS© 1991 Rev. 0 1048576 KB OK Missing Operating System

Before the burning stench could get worse, he switched off and pulled the plug. The same with the CRT. “You ever watch Monty Python?” “The dead parrot sketch?” “Yes ma’am. All I can do is haul this mess to work—where they have recycling. It’s worth about $5 for all of it.”

“So, what should I do now?” “Besides remove Jerry from your will? I would ask first what you planned to use a PC for.” “I just did that. I wanted to lure a handsome young man into my bedchamber. And look, here you are!”

“For a woman with a doctorate, you’re pretty dumb. That pie would have been enough!” “OK, then. Carl, please put this smelly thing out on the front porch, and meet me in the kitchen.” On the porch, he realized it was more sensible to put the carcass in Mimi’s trunk. So that’s what he did.

Back in Sally’s kitchen, the overhead light was off. At the breakfast table were two candles burning, two slices of pie, and (“Wow!”) his landlady, stark naked.

Carl was extremely nervous. “Mrs. Rossington, you’re trying to seduce me!” She chuckled. “Aren’t you?” “Not everyone gets my pie, Carl. Sit. Eat.” Delicious as it was, he hardly tasted the pie as they demolished their two slices.

Sally slid her chair away and removed his empty plate. Then she parked on the table edge and gestured between her thighs. “Now it’s time for hair pie. Get licking! When you have turned me on, we can do something else.

“Poker?” asked Carl, his mouth full of curly hairs. “Not yet, babe. Keep going.” He was no expert, but she guided his efforts to reach her first climax. She grabbed a napkin and daubed his face. Then she hauled down his pants and shorts and they exchanged roles. He moaned as she licked his little head. “Pull the shaft with your hand. Ahh, yes!”

It wasn’t very long before he was spurting. Then he followed her to the living room, leering at her beautiful ass. “See anything you like, Carl?” “I have no words, except, Dale Rossington was a very foolish man.”

Sally was nearing 50, but her curvy body and playful attitude appealed to her 25 year old tenant. “What are you thinking, Carl?” “I’m thinking I should be paying more rent to you.” “Don’t be silly, I know you have reduced hours now at the shop. Just come see me again on Friday night. And don’t worry, we won’t need birth control. Now kiss me, mnph! Go home and take the rest of the junk with you. Here’s an extra-strong garbage bag for the carcass. Scram, I need to clean my kitchen.”