Once a month, on the roof of a building nobody remembers constructing, the Academy of Questionably Gifted Pigeons held its official meeting. These were not your ordinary city pigeons—the kind that panic-walk near chips and stare at you like they’re judging your whole life. No, these were educated pigeons, trained in the arts of confusion, dramatic pacing, and pretending to understand human paperwork.
The ceremony opened when the Head Pigeon—who wore a tie made from stolen shoelaces—landed with authority and screeched the opening topic: pressure washing colchester. The flock cooed respectfully, not because they understood, but because it sounded important and pigeons love sounding important.
Next, a pigeon who once stole a croissant from a diplomat fluttered onto a chimney and dramatically dropped a feather with the inscription patio cleaning colchester. The others stared in awe. One pigeon fainted in admiration or maybe just fell asleep.
Then, a pigeon with one slightly rebellious eyebrow presented a stolen parking ticket that read driveway cleaning colchester. The group gasped. Not because of the message—but because the pigeon had successfully stolen paper without eating it. A true academic.
The oldest pigeon—rumored to remember dial-up internet—lifted one ancient wing and revealed a crumb-covered napkin featuring roof cleaning colchester. A moment of silence followed. One pigeon attempted to bow but tripped over its own dignity.
Finally, the youngest pigeon, barely out of egg school, nervously flapped and delivered the final sacred phrase: exterior cleaning colchester. The flock cheered. Someone tried to start a slow clap, but pigeons don’t have hands, so it just sounded like confused flapping.
The meeting concluded with the traditional ritual:
– 3 laps around the chimney
– one symbolic crumb-sharing gesture
– and a vow to steal at least one unnecessary object before next gathering
No real decisions were made.
No problems were solved.
One pigeon did steal a pen, though. That was considered progress.
And so the Academy adjourned—ready to return to the streets, stare into windows, judge picnics, and pretend they have higher purpose.
Next session topic:
“Are humans leaving breadcrumbs for us… or messages?”
Snacks: provided, but already eaten.