I'm in my parents' living room, sitting in an armchair. Suddenly a miniature goat—the size of a cat!—jumps up on my lap, baaing. It has long white hair and twisty little horns, and it's cute as hell. I pet it for a moment, and then it leaps onto the next person's lap and starts making its way around the room, like a cat. I see something moving on the mantlepiece of the parlor, and I get up to look at it. It's a sparrow, half-coated in chocolate. Her wings are stuck to her sides, and many of the pinfeathers have already been pulled out by her struggling. I know that even if I manage to get the chocolate off without hurting her, she'll probably never fly again. I angrily ask my parents who did this, and they reply casually, "Oh, your brother did it. It was just a joke." Just then my brother shows up, smirking. I yell at him and try to punch him numerous times, but he dodges and keeps on smirking.