It’s misleading what story this pleasing bird has with cosmetic cups, though apparently there’s some bad blood. On his end, anyway.
The waggish cockatoo quietly climbs down from his perch, walks right over to a considerable building of white cups…and knocks any and each one of them down. You can’t contend he’s not thorough. Maybe he usually wanted to be a usually considerable thing in a room. Y’know, like that one crony we have who always has to one-up you. Only much, most sillier.
“Take THAT…stupid cups…”
Yeah, we uncover them who’s boss, buddy. They’ll really consider twice before display their foolish cosmetic faces around we again.