I don’t think you properly met Charles. Charles is a raven. Charles is a beautiful, sleek, very smart raven. Sure, his outlook on life is not… shall we say, as bright as anyone could wish, and sure, he talks a lot of the downfall of society, civilisation being on the brink of chaos or something or other, and also nuclear weapons, but no one can deny that he is awfully smart.
I mean, if we were to compare minds to motors, Charles would be the one with the roaming Porsche or Ferrari roaring effortlessly down the road at record speed while I am stuck with a moped that’s been tampered with and only advances by big sudden jerking bursts in random directions.
I’m quite sure the Tyrex’s brain is moving like a lightning-fast spinning-top, spinning so quickly that it’s only a blur, not always going in a straight line, and consequently sometimes falling of the table, while screaming madly all along.
If for example, you were to give a problem to Charles, the Tyrex and myself, and one hour to solve it: at the end of the allotted time, Charles will undoubtedly have 30 solutions, some better than others, and some that will take at least one hour to explain to other people.
I’ll have only 3, one being very original as well as sadly not possible, and another easily debunked by Charles as definitely not working. On the other hand, I’ll also have a video of an emu running wildly around a pond, a snickers bar, a goat that was telling me an amazing story about her dad, and a screw that I found under the table, and does anybody knows what that screw could be for?
It is impossible to accurately predict what the Tyrex will do or say at any moment, except maybe that he’ll eat something.
The thing is, I couldn’t say which is best, because I’ve been born with the moped, and cannot imagine what it would be like to have a ferrari. Everyone has his own mode of transport, that’s the beauty of it! Also, what was I talking about, before my moped crashed into that particular tree?
Right! Muffin, the bar, the drink!
So that night, when I sat in the bar, sipping on my basil cocktail, one hand in the fries basket (you’ve got to be territorial with food when going out with the Tyrex), that is exactly what I did: I gave a problem to Charles and the Tyrex. I told them about Muffin and her distress, describing to them in painful details the scene at the copier, and asked them for a solution.
“In periods of difficulty and stress, it is always better to make people feel like they are surrounded by friendship, love and attention, said Charles.
-I like her muffins, said the Tyrex pensively, they’d be even better fried with brussel sprouts.
-…that is why I feel it is important to emphasize the profound belief and trust we have in the abilities of our dear bosom friend…
-hurh hurh hurh, Bosom, said the Tyrex.
-…even though like all of us, she is flawed and we could sometimes wish she would elevate herself above those contemporary demands of our bleak society, which…”
I saw him take a deep breath, and calculated that he would be going on with the pitfalls of mass consumerism, and the demise of the world, for a good half hour, so I somehow let my mind wander while he was talking. The Tyrex was still chuckling and muttering “Bosom” once in a while. Then he suddenly said:
“We should throw a party! You know, a surprise party, for Muffin!
-It is actually an excellent idea, opined Charles, mildly surprised.
-Yes! This would do her so much good! did I squeal. We could do it at my place!
-And she could make her muffins, said the Tyrex, and I’d bring brussel sprouts.
-I may also advise that we prepare a text describing how inspiring she can be to each of us, and how we believe in her abilities to easily overcome any superficial difficulties she may encounter in her life, added Charles”
I beamed at them with love and pride. The best friends one could ever wish for, aren’t they?