"It's not a pigeon."
"What do you care. Wait. Did that just trash some pet theory of yours?"
"Shut up. While you're at it, forgive me for bothering to talk out loud in your presence. If you're gonna be like that."
"Sorry. Whatever. Just sayin' not every dead drunk homeless bird is a pigeon, you know? That's, like, racist or some shit. Anyway. What was he smokin'? Marley Lights?"
"What makes you think he was smoking anything? It's a cigarette butt. The sidewalks are paved with those. Hey. Maybe you can convince those ants to bring some of his lungs back so we can get 'em tested for nicotine and tar."
"Funny. What the hell's yer problem, anyway? 'Tsa dead bird. Hardly even smells worth rollin' in. What's up your snout today?"
"Same old same old. It's nothing to do with you. It just bugs me when the wildlife feels like drinking itself to death, you know? Pigeons might be too dumb to know when it's time to get out of town. But a thrasher? He had a choice. A better choice, anyway."
"I hear ya. There but for the grace of God, eh?"
"Yeah. And thank God we have livers bigger than an acorn kernel so we can drink more than the dregs of a can of Miller Lite should we feel the need."
"Amen. In fact, I feel the need right now."
"Sure. But first let's find something decent to roll in. I need to get the stink of this one off me."
"Okay. ... ... I wish the humans would come back."
"Shut your mouth."
Posted by Laszlo Q. V. St-J. Xalieri