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One evening as the magician worked, the parrot continued to harass the unfortunate man. Sadly the ship ran into a mine which had become detached from the sea floor after a storm. The explosion tore the bow off the ship which sank within a few minutes. Amid the wreckage and the lifeboats, the magician sat on one end of a table from the first class dining room. At the other end sat the parrot, dirty and disheveled, his feathers caked with fuel oil. For some time they eyed each other malevolently saying nothing. Finally the parrot shook himself and advanced across the table. He fixed the magician with a beady eye. "Okay, I give up," he squawked. "What did you do with the ship?"