Tears of happiness

Peg and Jan are feeling perky in the spring sun. While we normally find them lounging in one way or another, maybe toying with semis on a nearby highway, but never if it means getting up. 

Today they are up on their hind legs standing opposite a roundish boulder that stands higher than most gulls, for example, would dare to fly. 

"Now clench your talons and shove a little." 

"Oh! It does move. It's not stable at all! Fun."

 They found merriment in rocking the mountain-sized boulder this way and that.

"It's so warm. I just want to lean against it."

The friends both pitched forward until their bellies were flat against the hot rock surface. They managed to reach across the top and lock claws briefly. 

Peg's tears of happiness crashed down, weakening the integrity of the granite. Cracks begin to form. 

Just as the cataclysm begins, eventually burying several nearby fleke communities, Jan and Peg's wingtips dart into place with a flapping thunder that rivals the roar of splintering rock and screaming below.  

Once in flight, they learn that they can press their bellies against each other and get the same warm pleasure they'd just got from the boulder. Then they each twirl away from the other, rising briefly, and curving back down again, opposite one another, and at the same time releasing their purplish intestinal gases. This, they laughed, has created a "fart heart." 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Ironically, one curious gull does venture up toward Peg and Jan, attracted by the spectacle. As the intensity of their laughter reaches him, unfortunately, his brain explodes, and he crashes into the clouds of dust below. 

Phyliss