Roc's Egg: Weird Western

I thought me and the rocs were getting along fine, right up until one of them decided to lay her egg on top of my roof. I'm pretty sure it was Gretel, as I call the simple-minded one who never takes proper care of her own eggs and as a result hasn't had any offspring since I've lived here. I didn't reckon I'd like the rotten egg smell of an egg so large, so close, but I knew perfectly well that messing with a roc's egg is one sure way to get the wrath of the entire clan brought down on you, and once that happens, you're not going to live long enough to get out of roc territory. And I didn't want to get out of roc territory. I liked it that they kept out the riffraff, and they didn't appear to mind exchanging a bloody sheepskin of gems for a live sheep every now and then, so it was also a nice little earner for me and my sister's family back east. I wasn't sure if they'd be as angry about me touching the egg given that it was Gretel's, and her eggs never did well, but I didn't want to risk it. I did temporarily consider drilling up through my roof, draining the egg, and letting it dry out so that it would be hollow, but some of these rocs are damn smart, using tools and everything, even if Gretel isn't. My only other option appeared to be making sure that the roc egg didn't spoil. So that's how I became a mama roc.


Inspiration: Picture of a Dali's house with an egg on the roof: http://www.flickr.com/photos/marjoleinvegers/10900576506/
Story potential: High.
Notes: I like the idea of combining weird west with rocs.