SFH3 Run #1978
: 04/27/2020
: Alamo Square
: Tuna on Top
: Do Her Well

The thing is that being a pigeon had never been easy, but it had never been that tough either. Avoid cars... check. Avoid dogs... check. Shit on people... double check. And when you were a pigeon, you always knew what section of the city you were supposed to be in, whether you were one of those greasy SFGH pigeons, or one of the sleek and svelte residents of Nob Hill... although the avian denizens of the Tenderloin were best left unmentioned. 

Lately, though, lately things had gotten flat out weird. There were like, no humans out, ever. All pigeons knew there was that one week at the end of August when things were actually civil in San Francisco, but even with a poor sense of the passage of time it was clear something was amiss. And the electromagnetic waves wizzing around in the air were giving all the birds something else to squawk about.

"Dude, are you seeing this one? There's a guy in a viking hat."

"Shit, shit, I think I'm out of range. Did I just hear one of them call the other Sperm Donor?"

"I think that might be a term of endearment? Like that guy who gives you bread all the time and calls you Shitbutt?"

"Yeah, I just didn't think humans were cool enough to get a name like Shitbutt, you know?"

"So you're on the same wavelength now? Why is that one called Dick First Ass Up squawking about leaving beers in a car? You gotta leave food lying around for a bit so it picks up those environmental flavors, you know?"

"That Five Angry Inches sure has a bright coat. I wish we could make our own coats, I'd be prettier than a conure."


"Calm down, calm down. It's not really here. Get your shit together."

"Dude, I feel like I'm tripping full time with all these calls going around in the air, you know?"

"Do you think they can hear us?"

"That Wrinklepecker didn't even move when you screamed, and Cosmic Pussy totally would have noticed, she looks sharp. So no."

"Check out those bottles that one called Sleazy's got going."

"Yeah, yeah, but do all humans drink that much? And survive?"

"I bet Sister Fister and Big Cock Chains could put it away."

"My money's on Hand Pump."

"Hey... hey... that one looks familiar. Didn't she stop by an hour or so ago? She was making all those weird arrows."

"Tuna... Tuna... sounds delicious."

"Oh shit oh shit there's a bird. We are on high alert, there's a bird."

"Birds in houses? Birds. In. Houses? We have to know more."

"Look at that, those two humans are following the arrows. The woman seems a little better at it. We have to follow them."

"Tears of Seamen? Why would a Seaman cry?"

"I don't know, I don't have tearducts."

"Aw, fuck we lost them. What was the other one's name? Bloqueen?"

"Let's call it out..."

"Cooo. Cooo. Cooo."

"Fuck, I hate having a shitty syrinx."

"Just go to sleep."

There was very little else for the pigeons to do besides hang out at Alamo Square and watch the people going by, so when Hand Pump showed up (sans viking hat) it was a no brainer to follow him.

"He's going the wrong way. He's going the wrong way! Should we tell him?"

"You saw how well that worked out last time."

"Maybe I'll take a big shit."

"You just covered one of the arrows, and he just drove away in a van. Nice work, dude. And now look, that lady is totally fucking lost."

"What does her neckless say? Cum Test Dummy?"

"What's cum?"

"They all seem pretty divided about it, whatever it is. My cousin in the Castro says they get it all over the place."

"She's probably an important human if she's responsible for testing it."

"Dude, you just distracted me again."

"That one was on the call-- Sleazy!"

"Does she have wine?"

"No, and she looks pretty bummed about it."

"Look, if we're gonna figure out the deal with the bird, we've gotta come up with a strategy."

"Maybe if you pretend like you're dead?"


"Shit, she didn't even stop. Neither did that one following her."

"Yeah, he Just Doesn't Get It."

"Well now what?"

"We have to stay right here. Right by this spot, and find the next one that comes by, lure them into a dark alley, and wham!"




"Don't be silly, it's just in our brains, OH FUCK IT'S PRISON WALLET AND MY LITTLE PORNO SAVE ME SAVE ME SAVE ME."

"Thank god you didn't demolish those arrows with your rapid fire shitting, or they would have had us."

"Ok, we have only so many more opportunities. We have to know more about the bird."

"Ok, what about that one? The one with the necklace reading Cockamole? That seems like one of their ilk."

"She's not even going the right way. Look, there's a guy, Muppet Dick, taking a selfie by those marks."

"Get him! Stop him!"

"Well I'm trying, he keeps getting distracted by all the marks you covered in poop."

"Is he trying to get himself killed by running in traffic?"

"Oh god, and there's another one, Humpy Slowcum, right after him."

"We're sorry we covered your marks in poop, we didn't mean it! Don't die!"

"Wow, the cars are actually avoiding the pedestrians for once. Weird."

"Something is very wrong with the world right now."

"Well, there goes our last chance."

"We'll never know about the bird now."

"Is that man trying to flag us down?" 

"That's really odd... Us? You want us?"

"Isn't that that Big Cock Chains dude?"

"Tell us about the bird, man."

"Yeah, tell us about the bird."


"You're for real? They just live inside all day?"

"That's fucked."


"Yeah, I guess some chicks might like being waited on beak and foot."

"That part about the head rubs sounds kinda nice."


"But like never going outside?"


"What do you mean, all you humans are supposed to stay in, too."

"Well, I've been feeling great for the last year. I was born then, so it's been a good run."

"Yeah, no coughs here, not even a sniffle."
"Oh no, we didn't think it was a bird flu. Of course we didn't."

"Yeah, it's been ages since there were any birds sick around here. My grammy didn't even know a sick bird."


"I knew it was bats, those shifty motherfuckers."

"I was just saying last week, bats, you can't trust 'em."


"Okay, you take care too. Good talk."

"Best of luck, man."