Don't tell me I don't have any fucking empathy

Ok, this is getting pretty fucking freaky.
The dying bird, right.
So, I'm sitting here, not doing anything, minding my own business when I hear this one lone plaintive little chirp, the kind of chirp that just breaks your heart, and I'm thinking, well, it can't be long now. Then about a minute or so later, I hear another chirp, just as plaintive and heartbreaking as the last one, and I'm thinking, way to go bird, do not go gentle into that good night. Then another minute or so later, and another chirp, I mean, surely this one must be the death rattle, right, and I'm thinking how am I going to break this to MB, I mean she takes this kind of thing a lot harder than I do. Then, I don't know, a couple of minutes later, I hear another chirp, and I mean, I'm just about on the verge of tears here, the zoloft you know. So I decide I'm going to check on the birds, I mean, they're covered up for the night, but dammit, I mean, shit, nobody wants to die alone in the dark, do they? So, I'm in the living room trying to screw up enough courage to look in the cage, and then I hear another chirp ... and I look up ... and it's the fucking smoke detector and the weak fucking battery signal!
Yeah, it's the zoloft, the fucking zoloft!