The pigeon's role in this.

I don’t know why I was surprised when the door opened and the pigeon flew in. Manners hadn’t been at the forefront so far and why that trend should suddenly stop now was beyond me.

The pigeon was breathing rather hard. At least.. I assume it was breathing hard. I had never spent time examining one before. It flew to the foot board of my bed, perched, and addressed the snake.

“Sorry I’m late sir. Central Park was a mess today.”

“No problem, old chap.”, the snake replied in the worst imitation of a british accent I had ever heard. “What’s the word on the front?”

“Well sir, according to the mice in the astronomy lab, the cookie is still heading toward Earth and..”

“Cookie?”, I yelped. I couldn’t help it anymore.

My cat had emerged from the kitchenette, having cleaned the tuna casserole from his stomach and gave me the dryest look I had ever seen.

“Dear, what did you think the world’s crummy day was going to be due to?”, he purred.

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