Monday, 29 January 2007

IS IT A BIRD?

Or is it a mutant killer flying machine from the planet Birdos Horriablis?
...........Let me set the scene in this unforeseen chiller that unfolded last Thursday in a Victorian House in Oxton.....
A woman, alone, taking a little late lunch returns home to the safety of her own house. She goes in, walks through to the kitchen, just as she has done hundreds of times before. With the remains of a tasty American bread based snack in her hand, she decides that she will switch the radiogram on. Everything as usual, as normal, until she hears a strange noise from above. She gets an unnerving suspicion that she is being watched..........
When she looks up above her eye line, there it is. A huge, evil, demonic overweight, (and slightly blackened by its chimney descent) pigeon quite possibly on steroids.
With an almighty scream, tossing the remains of her lunch over her shoulder, she bolts for the door. The crazed pigeon fluttering across the room in hot pursuit........(Well that's what she tell's me.) With the safety of the door behind her, she now gulps for air, in a semi asthmatic state.


So in her hour of utter need who can Jen turn to help for.......? Her fiance...of course....but he is on a range of hills in Snowdonia......Her Mum.....Her Auntie........No use. Her Sister......Anyone!

The sound of smashing beer bottles and the flying of dirty Pigeon feathers fills the air.....But wait...

There is one last hope...

If you've got a problem ....

And nobody else can help........

And if you can find him....

Maybe you can hire........

PIGEON BOY
No sooner had he been called, than he arrived and sprung into bird fighting action.
Some say he is the nemesis of all fighting animals.....
Others say that no mortal man should mock his long shoes and small feet.
But most would undoubtedly not question his steely nerve.......
Well please allow me to paint the picture......
Having summoned up the courage to tackle the winged invader, which according to Bird Boy was the size of a hefty goat, when it puffed it's chest out, and that in itself was a brave move when all is considered, he ordered the now trembling Rookie to stand guard by the door, leaving a clear escape route if the bird should turn bad......
He then donned his armour.......A woven pink plastic wash basket, which was worn over the entire top half of the body, and clutching a household broom, to steer the bird out of the back door.
A tremendous battle ensued, with vicious broom waving, falling bottles, pigeon poo descending to the kitchen floor, and screams from both Bird Boy and Rookie.
Bird Boys obvious fear was of the sneaky pigeon flying up under the protective basket and going for the eyes.........
After some fifteen minutes, Bird Boy reigned triumphant, and jumping up and down celebrations followed for some time.
A true hero.
A big thanks from me.
and if you should need him.........just call like a pigeaon....coo coooooooooo....
GOOD WORK FELLA

1 comment:

anjo from italy said...

hello i recently read your moving and emoional story of pigeon boy. let me tell you alittle bit about myself , my name is Anjo i live in a small town in italy , call napascia. Rumours have been circulating around our village about the story of Pigeon Boy which is amaising as sometimes we dont see anyone other than the villagers for a few weeks sometimes months, but somehow this story was circulating and no one new how. i was old by a friend and like her she was also told by a friend. i was sent to walk for several days to the city of cepatia where i was ordered to investigate the story some more, after sevaral day and no leads ,i met a blind man called hulio who told me he new of pigion boy, but as he was about to tell me the story he ssuddenly dropped t his feet and uttered the following words "pigeon boy lives in us all open your heart and you will find him there " with that he gently closed his eyes and died.
with no real answers i made my way back to my village tired and hungry . when i arrived back at the village i was greeted with laughter and pointing , everyone from the village came out of there houses to laugh and point.

what the little shits never told me was that they had read you silly friggin story on your blog and sent me off on a wild feckin goose chase for 5 days, the wise old man crazy john who never died , he just passed out from all the boose he had drunk, and as for you stuoin mate with big spot on his face , if i ever see him , he is gonna get a right good kicken.

good bye