Larry and Mick Buy a Racing Pigeon

It was the last thing they expected to find in a stationer's. They had only gone in for a pencil sharpener, a small bag of elastic bands and a paper shredder, and they had come out with a racing pigeon.
'We've forgotten the pencil sharpener, the small bag of elastic bands and the paper shredder,' said Mick.
'Damn!' said Larry.
'But then we do have a racing pigeon,' said Mick.
'But what are we going to do with a racing pigeon?' said Larry.
They both looked at their newly acquired feathered friend. Said feathered friend coo'd, pecked around the floor of the tiny cage in which it was housed and looked around at nothing in particular. As pigeons do. Racing or otherwise.
'I suppose we should name it,' said Mick.
'What do you name a racing pigeon?' said Larry.
'Something sporty, one would presume...'
'Kelly Holmes?'
'Tim Henman?'
'Which begs the question of whether it is a lady racing pigeon or a gentleman racing pigeon...'
They again looked at the cooing avian, who gave nothing away as to its gender or indeed sexual preference.
'The bird,' said Mick, 'is giving nothing away as to its gender...'
'...Or indeed sexual preference,' said Larry.
'Well that's an easy one,' said Mick.
'How so?'
'All animals are bisexual.'
'And how, friend Mick, do you arrive at that sweeping generalisation?'
'Have you ever known a dog which won't hump anything it can lay its paws upon?'
'This is a bird.'
'Same principal.'
'I've never had a pigeon try and hump my leg.'
'Doesn't mean it doesn't happen.'
'So...' said Larry; 'how do we figure out the sex of the thing?'
'Does it matter?'
'S'pose not.'
'Kelly Holmes it is then.'

Kelly Holmes the racing pigeon was also somewhat confused as to why she (for twas a 'she') had found herself being sold in a stationer's. Kelly Holmes was able to be confused about such a thing, because Kelly Holmes was a highly intelligent racing pigeon. Kelly Holmes was not, however, confused as to her gender, because Kelly Holmes was, and knew that she was, a 'she.' Kelly Holmes was also not confused as to her sexual preference. Kelly Holmes was not bisexual (and neither, let it be known, were all animals - the three-clawed, scaly-knee'd, bug-eyed, lesser-spotted Hufferbeast that lived twelve kilometres beneath the Worcester branch of Marks and Spencers, for example). Kelly Holmes was a lesbian racing pigeon. And proud of it. She didn't, however, go around wearing dungarees, sporting a crew-cut and listening to obscure Country and Western music, because that would just be a cliché.

[Author's Note: at this point it must be clarified that the usage of the name Kelly Holmes is entirely based on the fact that the real Kelly Holmes is a female sports personage, and the sexual preference of the pigeon Kelly Holmes bears no relation whatsoever to what may or may not be the sexual preference of the real Kelly Holmes. The real Kelly Holmes may or may not be a lesbian (I wouldn't know either way), and I, the author, in no way intend to infer that the real Kelly Holmes is a lesbian. Or, for that matter, a pigeon... Or indeed pigeon-like... If you see what I mean...]

'Go on, eat your lovely pigeon food,' said Mick, as he sprinkled bits of broken Rich Tea biscuit into the cage, via the small door at the top; 'otherwise you'll never grow up to be big and strong and fit enough for the 2012 Pigeon Olympics in London.'
Kelly Holmes was not much taken with the Rich Tea sprinklings...

[Kelly Homes the pigeon, that is... I have no knowledge of whether or not the real Kelly Holmes likes or would like Rich Tea sprinklings...]

...She would much rather have vegetarian Lasagne Verdi with curly fries and a sprig of parsley on top, but beggars can't be choosers, so she got stuck in.
'Look!' said Mick to his friend Larry. 'It loves its Rich Tea sprinklings!'
'That's nice,' said Larry. 'Your vegetarian Lasagne Verdi with curly fries is ready.'
'Has it got a sprig of parsley on top?'
'Naturally.'
'Splendid!'
Kelly Holmes thought that Mick (and his lasagne-cooking (bastard!) friend Larry) was a bit stupid. Correction: she thought Larry and Mick were a lot stupid. But she didn't let on, though, due to that whole 'not biting the hand that feeds you' jobbie. Not that she'd be very good at biting, not having any teeth'n'all. And even if she did 'let on,' she doubted they would be clever enough to figure out what she was 'letting on' about. But better to be safe than sorry, and all that. So she didn't let on. But she did think they were stupid.
Where was I?
Oh yes...
She thought they were stupid, because they had bought her without knowing what to do with her. Granted, they had bought her in a stationery shop, rather than a specialist racing pigeon shop, so there was no specialist 'What To Do With A Racing Pigeon'-type literature lying around or Racing Pigeon Experts of whom they could ask, 'What should we do with this racing pigeon?' But nevertheless you'd think they'd have a bit of nous about then and common sense and stuff, and use their noddles and do a small amount of thinking, before bringing a living creature home in a tiny little cage and feeding her Rich Tea sprinklings and stuff. I mean, surely they had at least one brain cell between them? Jeez, people, I dunno, thick as two short ones and all that...
'Obviously we have to train it,' said Mick.
'For what?'
'The 2012 Pigeon Olympics in London, as mentioned several paragraphs earlier.'
'But how do we know which events it will be good for in the 2012 Pigeon Olympics in London?'
'For the sake of argument, and because we have named the pigeon "Kelly Holmes, shall we henceforth refer to it as "she?'
'I suppose it would imbue the aforementioned Ms Holmes with a greater sense of identity...'
'Then henceforth I declare that Kelly Holmes the racing pigeon is a “she!'
'Glad we got that sorted.'
'Yes.'
'So then...'
'What?'
'Which event or events should we enter her for?'
'The high jump?' suggested Mick.
'She's a racing pigeon,' said Larry. 'She races.'

'Hurdles then?'
'But couldn't she just fly over the hurdles, thus defeating the object of their existence?'
'That would be cheating.'
'But how would you monitor it?'
'Good point.'
They both looked at the pigeon.
Kelly Holmes coo'd and shook her head in bafflement.
'Do you think,' said Larry, 'she's a sprinter or a long distance pigeon?'
'I think...' said Mick, 'we may...' he continued, 'have pecked off more than we can chew.'
'What do you mean?' said Larry.
'What do we know about racing pigeons?' said Mick.
Finally! - thought Kelly Holmes, as she flapped her wings a bit and started to dream of being freed from the confines of her tiny cell, soaring through blue skies, over acres of green fields and crapping on the heads of humans as far as the eye could see.

EPILOGUE:

'Pigeon Pie then?' said Larry.
'I prefer a nice soup, myself,' said Mick.
'I'll get the bread rolls in,' said Larry.
No-o-o-o-o! - thought Kelly Holmes.
But sadly it was ye-e-e-e-es...

[ FIN ]