This morning, I broke up a murder. Of crows.
They yelled at me, though I can’t imagine why. I could not see a reason for them to be gathered on the road as they were. Unless they were having a trial.
We call this meeting to order to discuss the crimes of last Friday.
Clive, did you or did you not perch upon the eaves of the blue house with white trim and copper spiral wind chime on the morning of Friday, the 22nd of August?
I did, Dennis.
And did you, that morning, make lascivious caws at a human female walking alone on the street?
Um, what does lascivious mean?
Well, it’s like rude language. You know, like, cat calls.
Cat calls? I can’t do cat calls. Don’t have the lips to make the “m” noise.
No, not literal cat calls, Clive! I mean, did you make inappropriate comments at the female with the intent to make her uncomfortable?
Like, your walking form is going to lead to hip and knee discomfort? Those shoes look like they give you blisters?
Well, what exactly?
Did you make comments of a sexual nature at the human female?
What? No! That’s disgusting. They don’t even have tales. Who told you I was…was saying that stuff?
Well, Samson said.
Oh, Samson. I see.
Yeah, you’re right. Should have known better. Sorry, Clive.
It’s okay, Dennis. You’re not the first.
I guess I’ve learned my lesson. ACK! ACK! ACK! Here she comes again!
Flee to the eaves and yell at her!
Whoa, Dennis. That’s going a bit far.
Damnit, Samson! Get out of here.