Lo' there. I'm Terry Flamingo, few little known facts about me;

I’m a 6’8 American Flamingo, quarter phoenix [mums side of the family] from Sarasota, Florida.

When I was eight I wanted to be a ninja but then my parents pointed out that being pink as hell and essentially walking on stilts is not exactly stealthy, although I probably should have guessed that every time my attempts to slink through the shadows failed miserably. That; and the macho concept of being a lethal assassin is absconded by vicious magenta feathers. After a football player mistakenly hit on me in the school lunch line I made it a personal endeavor to work out until my frilly frame was buff enough to impress any dame. Of course the resulting intimidating figure later undermined my attempts to woo a pretty lady to the prom, on account of being terrified of me. Go figure. At least the mental trauma of lusty male commentary has kept me exercising of when I get the chance.

So instead of becoming a deadly nigh-seven foot pink warrior of the night, I became a door-to-door salesman to support the uproarious habit of attending a college. I don’t recommend doing as such – great way to ruffle your feathers and dent your beak on some chum’s door knocker when they slam it in your face. Luckily, my occupation upgraded into Stockbroker after I got to know a rather spiffy Panda chap, after selling him a cheese grater that worked just as well on bamboo shoots.

Business work ain’t too bad really; they gave me my own space, and my neat party trick of being able to light cigarettes with a touch worked just as well on warming coffee – got me plenty of friends around the office [thanks mum!]. Of course, when the administration caught wind of it they took away my mahogany desk, on account of my heritage making me a fire hazard. Of course, that certainly didn’ stop them from giving me enough paperwork to make a forest weep.

The only tricky part about my job I suppose is when I have to go out to meet with folks. You’d think a proper appointment would work, but the sort of clientele we cater to tend to be the reclusive sort that don’t like to be met with, on account of what some governments might consider villainous behavior [usually supervillainous with the big spenders]. An’ of course, they are always the sort of fellas that require a personal touch to really sway into the deal. Which is where the door-to-door persistence I picked up in my youth really pays off. Some folk might be deterred by the sight of “Warning: Mine Field,”, stark drops off cliffs in an excess of a hundred feet, a few waves of hired goons or even an impolite dismissal – but nothing beats the satisfaction you get when you seal a deal with a firm hand shake.

Now before you get on about my line of work being evil an’ immoral – lemme ask you; have you ever had a dream? Heck, I used to dream about being a ninja. I think everyone’s got a dream and some folk’s dreams just to happen to involve death rays and world domination, so nobody’s willing to give them a chance. But I’ll tell you, there’s plenty of non-descript persons who’d love to support that sorta thing. They’re just shy about saying so to the people who do it. So it’s up to folks like me to knock on the doors of the innovators, the inventors and the mad scientists to offer them a chance to liquidate, expand – and give em’ a real shot at their dreams through the funding of various clandestine institutions.

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Drawn by Scribblerrigby of FA - who does amazing character designs. She is also open to commissions, and you can find her gallery at: http://scribblerrigby.deviantart.com/

Please direct your praise and admiration to the orginal: http://scribblerrigby.deviantart.co.....ingo-195181197