Elmer Fudd, dressed in his gray civilian clothes, strolled down the sidewalk while whistling 'In the Merry Month of May'. In one hand he held a maroon curtain-covered cage. He paused in his whistling to comment to himself, "Boy, oh boy, my vewy own pet canawy! Now I'wl have a sweet wittle fwiend who'll sing, chiwp and be mewwy with me." He smiled nicely at the cage and chuckled his signature chuckle.
Whistling again, Elmer approached his house and unlocked the door to let himself in.
"Hewe we awre wittle fwiend." he informed the cage's occupant, "Youw new home." He made his way to the living room and placed the cage atop a metal cage stand. He then moved to pull back the cage's curtains. They opened partway, before two little yellow arms came forth and yanked them closed again. Elmer started, and then tried opening them again. Once more, the arms pulled them shut. Elmer and the pair of tiny arms had a brief tug-of-war session with the curtains, before a mighty tug from Elmer ripped them out of the arm's grasp, off of the cage, and sent him flying across the room. He landed with a mighty crash.
Inside the cage, the newly revealed Tweety was rubbing his eyes as little spots danced before them. "Ohh, my poor widdle wight-stwained eyes.." he moaned. He blinked said eyes open, attempting to focus on the shape peering slowly over the lip of his cage.
"Aaaaa! A monster!" he screamed upon seeing Elmer, "Go away you big bad ting!" He kicked Elmer squarely in the jaw. Elmer saw stars.
Shaking his head to clear the dizziness, Elmer re-approached the cage. "It's awight wittle birdie, I'm not a monstewr." he smiled, "This is youw new home, and I'm gonna be youw new mastew."
Tweety glared skeptically at Elmer for a few seconds before saying flatly, "Is dat so?"
"Well maybe I don't WANNA master! Ya ever tink o' DAT?!" exploded Tweety. In a huff, he grabbed the curtains from where they'd fallen, and placed them indignantly back on the cage. A light snoring came from behind them.
From his seat on the floor, Elmer stated, "Gowwy gee, what a temper…"
Elmer, sporting an apron, carried a fancy steak dinner over to Tweety, who's cage was now stationed at the dinner table. He placed it before the canary while announcing, "Hewe you awre wittle birdie, suppewr..!" He stood by in anticipation while Tweety glared at it. Without warning, Tweety flung the plate into Elmer's face.
"You call this suppewr?!" demanded the little bird, "I wouldn't feed this to a stawving puppy..! You call youwself a cook! I'm dying over hewe...ohh, my poor stawved widdle stomach!" He feigned a hunger spell.
Elmer became flustered. "Oh, I'm sowwy Mr. Canawy..! I'wl get you something diffewent wight away. Just pwease don't die on me..! What is it you would wike?"
Now looking perfectly healthy, Tweety pondered. "Hmmmmmm…" he started, "I wanna woast narwhal, twee ware Tuskavanian gwaham cwackers, a gwass of milk fwom the Himawayas, exactwy nine peewled gwapes, a pickled peach, sewved in a wuby-studded egg cup, the poppy seeds fwom a woyal bagel…and a chewwy pie."
As each item was listed, Elmer ran out of the room and returned with the request. Panting, he placed the pie on the table.
"Is this satisfactowy, wittle birdie?" he huffed.
"Mmm, it'll do." Tweety said regally. He nibbled at the corner of a graham cracker and chomped a few poppy seeds before saying, "Awight, I'm done."
Elmer blinked at the mostly untouched pile of food, and became a little cross. "Hey you," he addressed, "I worked hawd to pwease you with that meal…the weast you could do is show some gwatitude and eat it..!"
Suddenly holding a phone, Tweety spoke into it, "Hewwo? Humane Society? Yes, I'd wike to weport a baaad widdle man who's not feeding his canawy pwoperwy…"
Elmer began sweeping the table off in an annoyed manner. "Awight, awight, you don't have to eat it..!" Tweety squinted happily and swung on his perch.
The two were now stationed in the drawing room. Elmer was seated in an easychair, wearing a lounge robe and reading a book. Tweety's cage hung nearby.
Elmer took in a deep breath, and then let out a relaxed sigh. Turning to Tweety he requested, "Say, how 'bout a nice, wewaxing song, wittle fwiend?"
Tweety turned to the readers and groused, "What does he think I am, a twained monkey?" To Elmer he nodded in seeming eagerness, "A song? Oh, sure ting…" he took a great breath that puffed up his chest, and began to loudly bellow:
"She'll be widin' six white horses when she coooomes,
She'll be widin' six white horses when she coooomes…
She'll be widin' six white horses, she'll be widin' six white horses
She'll be widin' six white horses when she coooooomes…!"
Elmer's hands were over his ears, and his face contorted with agony. "No, no, stop! I said a wewaxing song…wewaxing!" he called out over Tweety.
"What, you don't find dis wewaxing?" Tweety paused to ask, and continued to sing.
"Auugh!" Elmer cried, and ran up the stairs as fast as he could go.
In his room, Elmer fluffed his pillows as he prepped himself for bed. "Y'know," he told the audience, "that wittle bird is stawrting to annoy me."
With a heavy sigh he slipped under the covers and settled in. Tweety's voice suddenly blasted through the closed door. A cut to outside showed his cage to be perched on top of the stair banister. Elmer groaned and turned on his stomach, pillow covering his head.
The sun shone through Elmer's window as the new day dawned. Elmer himself awoke blearily and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with one hand. He then reached and pulled out the two socks he'd crammed in his ears. He was met with a blast of:
"Momma's widdle baby woves shortnin', shortnin'
Momma's widdle baby woves shortnin' bwead!
Put on the skiwwet, swip on da wid
Momma's gonna make some shortnin' bwead!"
Elmer gave a low growl. Getting out of bed, he slumped angrily out of the room and downstairs to Tweety's cage. "Ooo, wiwl you pwease be quiet Mr. Canawy?! My eawrs can't take much more of this..!"
Tweety stopped and looked down at him. "Ooooh, you don't wike dat one, huh? Well why didn't you say so?" With that he instead burst into a vibrant chorus of 'Camptown Races', causing Elmer to cringe.
"No!" the poor man shouted, "No more singing! Pwease, I beg of you!"
"Awight," agreed Tweety, "but onwy if I can have powwidge for bweakfast."
"Yes! Anything! Just pwease be quiet..!" Elmer raced into the kitchen to get Tweety his porridge. He opened every cupboard until he found the box, but upon shaking it, discovered it was empty. Clutching his head in horror, he raced to grab his bowler hat, and then ran off out the door, still in his robe, past a casually smirking Tweety. Tweety reclined on a suspicious-looking mound under his newspaper lining.
Seconds later, Tweety watched as Elmer careened back through the door holding a grocery bag and entered the kitchen. In the kitchen, Elmer whipped up the porridge in three seconds flat. Hurriedly, he rushed back out to the living room and presented Tweety with his breakfast.
Tweety frowned at it and said, "Hm, no, I've changed my mind. I want cold ceweal." He flipped the bowl onto Elmer's head, where the glop ran over the brim of his hat and all down his face. Elmer turned a lovely shade of red, and steam rose off of the porridge at an alarming rate. Slowly, he stomped back into the kitchen and returned with the cereal, which Tweety ate like a prince.
Elmer pried the bowl off of his hat with a 'pop!', and gave the audience a sour look as even more porridge ran down his face.
Elmer sat himself at a desk, paperwork splayed before him. He had a fountain pen in hand and he scribbled away at it. Behind him, Tweety swung boredly on his perch.
He sighed. "Hey, 'master'," he called, "can'tchya wet me out, just for a widdle while? I pwomise I won't wun away…"
Elmer looked over from his seat. "No, I'm sowwy Mr. Canawy, but if I wet you out, you could cause awl kinds of twouble, I'm suwre."
Tweety suddenly wore a striped prison outfit, and clanged a tiny metal cup against the cage bars. "Oh, warden, pwease wet me out..! My poor widdle wings ache for fwight. I'm awl cwamped up in hewe…da wawls..! Dey're suffocating..!" He choked himself dramatically and toppled over.
Elmer looked sympathetically at the little bird, then cast his eyes to the side as he pondered. Finally, he stood and walked over. "Wewl…awight, but pwomise me you won't weck anything."
"Who, me? Nevew!" Tweety promised, but behind his back his fingers were crossed. Elmer opened the door.
"Sucker!" cheered Tweety, and he rocketed to the nearest expensive vase, smashing it promptly.
Elmer gasped in horror as Tweety proceeded to break all of his other valuables. Portraits, crystal sculptures, art work, everything. And then Tweety took the ink well from Elmer's desk and casually turned it upside down, ruining Elmer's documents forever in a thick, black rain.
That was the last straw.
"Awight Mr. Canwy," Elmer glowered, face darkening, "I've twied to be nice, I've twied to be patient, but you simpwy wefuse to act decentwy."
"Yeah? And what you gonna do about it, Jack?" Tweety challenged, perched atop the upturned ink well.
"This." was Elmer's reply, and he snatched his gun from the nearby umbrella stand, turning it on the now shocked looking Tweety.
Tweety moved just in time as the ink well exploded below him, and barely managed to evade the shots that followed. He was chased into, around and back out of the kitchen, causing several pots and pans to crash to the floor, breaking several dishes, and several other items to be overturned. He flapped frantically up the stairs, followed closely by the repeated shots from Elmer's gun. Quickly, he perched on the banister knob and pretended to be a decoration.
Elmer appeared not a moment afterward, looking to and fro for the little pest.
"You know, I'm impwessed," Tweety said, causing Elmer to jump, "I never expected you to snap half dis bad…" He flew upward as the knob was blasted into oblivion and disappeared into Elmer's bedroom.
Elmer followed, and an almost exact repeat of what happened in the kitchen followed, except that in the kitchen there was no bed to be shredded.
Tweety continued to lead Elmer around the house, and a trail of destruction followed wherever he went. It wasn't long before every room in the house was totaled, and Tweety soared out the front door, pleased with his work.
"So wong, gov'nah!" he saluted as he flew away. Elmer fired a few more shots after him before he settled for shaking his fist angrily.
Still feeling sour, Elmer then turned back to his house. His gun dropped to the porch when he saw how it was in absolute shambles. He clutched his cheeks in disbelief, shook his head, dropped to his knees and then clenched his knuckles to his eyes in frustration.
At that moment, as if just to spite him, the entire building collapsed into a heap of rubble.
Elmer wasn't surprised. He didn't do anything. He simply sighed and stood up. As his hat rolled from the wreckage, he picked it up, put it on and turned away.
"That's it," he said resolutely as he headed into town, "Fwom now on all my pets awre fish."