Pope Pigeon III

"Behold!" he said. "This is a momentous day! Never before has Fowlkind been charged with such an awesome responsibility!"

 

"Yeah man," said Bob from below.

 

Pope Pigeon III looked down upon the gathered devout. "Who interjects with abject irreverence?" said he.

 

"Erm... me?" said Bob from below.

 

"Do you not feel the divine power of this moment?" said the feathered pontiff.

 

"It's awesome, man," said Bob.

 

The pigeon pope glared.

 

Bob wanted bread.

 

***

 

"If he's the first pigeon pope," said Mrs Peckerson; "why is he Pope Pigeon the Third?"

 

"Just shut up and listen," said Mr Peckerson.

 

"We will fly!" said the Exalted One. "Nay, we shall soar! Like our kind has never soar-n before!"

 

"('soar-n'?)" said Mrs Peckerson.

 

"And if anyone takes issue with our soaring," continued the Bird on the Balcony; "they shall be smited by the Holy Pigeon of Truth!"

 

"All this talk of smiting is giving me a headache," said Bob's brother Bill, who then flew off to hang out with his friends by the chippy.

 

***

 

The pigeon sighed. It was hard work being the leader of the Holy Roman Catholic Church. Not that he had been doing the job for long. The position had been advertised in last week's Pigeon Post, and due to the lack of applicants, he had been offered it without an interview. He suspected, in fact, that he was the only applicant. And he didn't, in fact, remember applying for it.

 

Had he then been chosen by God?

 

More likely a clerical error.

 

No matter, here he was, however he had got here, and he was going to make the most of it.

 

Flippin' tiring though.

 

***

 

"And so!" said the Venerable Vermin. "Like our wing-ed brethren, the Angels of Heav-!... Ah fuck this, I'd rather be a restaurateur."

 

He re-jigged his CV and went to the job centre.