The Phoenix, newly reborn and totally unaware of anything, looked out from an ash covered mountain top and asked, "What am I doing HERE?"
He looked on a small village in the valley and, with his wings flaming brightly, poised himself to be the symbol on Pink Floyd's mocking of the Nazi third Reich. Coiling his muscles, he launched into the air...
... And sank like a stone.
"Great, what'd I do that for?" He flapped his wings furiously and narrowly avoided a pine forest. Slowly gaining control, he pulled up and surveyed the world.
"What am I doing HERE?!"
Just then he hit wind shear, and plummeted toward the village below, crashing through the ceiling of Holey Roach Motel.
Harold crawled out of the wreckage, asking, "Did you bring my new legs?"
"Uh, no, I just dropped in."
"Oh. Well, do me a favour and go look for them."
"First tell me something."
"What?"
"Who in blue blazes am I?"
"Well, you're a big bird who just destroyed my Inn! Like it needed more after Ed..."
"Oh! Sorry..."
"Yeah, yeah, we're all sorry for something or other, but sorries just aren't going to cut it, bucko! How the fuck am I going to rebuild this place with no legs?!?"
"Don't ask me, I was only born five minutes ago. Besides, you said yourself that a new set of legs are on the way."
"Don't patronize me, chickee! I've a good mind to cook you up as a fricassee..."
"Yeah, sure." The Phoenix spread his wings and cautiously flew away.
"Just like a damn bird," said Harold. "Always flying off on ya."
