It was a summer afternoon, six years ago. The heat was heavy. Hardly a cloud in sight. I was eating grasshoppers, flying onto rooftops and screaming at children. Typical day.

When I stopped behind a bush to catch some shade and scream myself to sleep, that's when I saw her. She poked her head around the corner of the bush, made eye contact, then sauntered around, getting dangerously close to my personal space. Know the saying "It's always the quiet ones?" I knew from her lack of screaming that she couldn't be trusted. Feathers spread and ass high up in the air, I prepared to attack. She was not deterred.

"Stop or I'll pea!" I screamed.

Her advance did not falter. She smirked and said nothing.

I took a few steps back then shook vigorously. "You want to enter the pea-space, motherfucker?!" I yelled. "Because right now, YOU'RE IN THE GODDAMN SPLASH ZONE! STAY BACK OR I SWEAR I WILL PEA ALL OVER YOU!!"

That stopped her. She looked right into my eyes and whispered in a low, sultry tone: "That's what I want you to do."

I was horrified. There was no way I was about to let this plain-feathered harlot sully my cloacal maidenhead. Also I could not afford to raise a pea-family on eleven dollars an hour. She had to be destroyed.

I turned and used my satellite dish feathers to catch the sun's rays, focusing its energy into my deadly pea-beam ultimate move attack strike laser move finisher. She was instantly vaporized, and the bush caught fire. That's when I heard a voice.

"Knotty, Knotty!" it boomed.

It was coming from the bush! Ignoring my instincts to scream and fly away - not necessarily in that order - I stepped forward.

"Do not come any closer," the bush commanded. "Take off your pants, for the place where you are standing is holy ground."

"Bush, I am not wearing any pants," I replied.

"Do not call me Bush. Bush was my father. I am Bush Junior."

"Like the president?"

"Sure. Anyways, I have seen the misery of my pea-ple in e621. I have heard them crying out because of their terrible taggers, and I am concerned about their suffering. So I have come down -"

"Could you skip to the point?" I interrupted. "This joke's really getting dragged out."

"Certainly. Go forth AND TAG!"

With this outburst, Bush Junior exploded. Fire flew everywhere, igniting my crest feathers and sending me into a panic. When the flames subsided, I felt a power deep within me that I had never felt before. I was enlightened. I had the knowledge of every possible tag that could be tagged on a furry smut archive. I flew to e621 and got to work.

And that's why my headpoof feathers are orange.

the male is know as a peacock the female a peahen.

Knotty_Curls said:
It was a summer afternoon, six years ago. The heat was heavy. Hardly a cloud in sight. I was eating grasshoppers, flying onto rooftops and screaming at children. Typical day...

What did I just read... It was wonderful and weird, and probably the best call for proper tagging I have yet seen.

Better version of post #1091194