The corpulent pigeon landed upon a telegraph pole and surveyed the surrounding area. To the very edge of the horizon, where the distant hills met the purple clouds, the land was covered in snow- all white and cold and irritating. The pigeon scratched his eyeball with his left foot, having lost the toes on the right one in the great peanut battle of ’86, and thought about his strategy for the evening. The great, boring wintry nature of winter had attempted to scupper his plans, but as far as he could see there were no mice or men shuffling about on the sidelines, there instead was just a pigeon with a manky foot and intense dreams of Christmas dinner. Nothing could possibly annihilate his proposal! Nothing.
The weather in the weeks prior to his dinner had been bitterly cold, but fraught with the noteworthy thrill of anticipation. He had regularly attacked people in the streets, ripping off pieces of Christmas cake from their hands, and on the odd occasion little bits of delicious skin, and he had eventually stocked up on a large collection of Christmas-based treats for him and his pigeon family. But more than that, he had also gone to the trouble of fashioning little top hats for everyone to wear- more fancy he thought than silly paper crowns, he’d found cardboard and hairballs coughed up by cats, and stuck them together with whatever sticky mess he could find around the nightclubs the humans liked to frequent. They looked magnificent, and with those few extra cheese biscuits he’d nicked from the small child with the hilarious face today, he knew that this would be the greatest Christmas ever.
Sooner than he knew the time was upon him, and he waited very patiently for the first of his family members to arrive. Hopping over to the frozen ledge outside of his pigeon house, he found his mother and helped her to the table- a leftover condom packet decorated with Christmas twigs and pennies. Lovely. He then went back and helped over his father, and his auntie. His grandma was also there and he was able to guide her to her place without too much trouble, the silly old goose. All the family had arrived and the pigeon felt pride swell in his chest. Thereupon he presented the food he had been hoarding for a matter of weeks, which had now formed together into a terrifying mush-like substance. Everyone seemed rather impressed. He then also presented his top hats; the crescendo of the occasion, and placed one on the top of the heads of every family member. Then taking the time to place one upon his own head just so, he stood pompously, king of the Christmas dinner, and of pigeon top hats.
Wasting no time at all he tucked in to his meal and it was amazingly delicious, especially mouldy bits. He looked up at his family who hadn’t yet touched their dinner on account of them all having frozen to death a few days ago on the ledge outside, and he smiled a little pigeon smile. Had he opposable thumbs he might have been inclined to take a photo of the occasion. It was certainly the best Christmas he had ever had.