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19 October 2001 @ 04:19 pm
Revenge his fowl and most unnatural murder.  
I sat down in the grass, staring at the pigeon.
"Hello, Horatio." I said.
"Who the f*** is Horatio?" it squawked. (This was not a polite pigeon.) "My name, as you know, is Eugene."
"Oh, that's right." I replied. "Gomen nasai."
After a few moments of silence, Eugene continued, "By the way, I'm still mad at you."
"Whatever for?" I queried.
"You KILLED me you f**king moron!"
"That was two whole days ago - get over it!"
His ghosty self flickered as he pondered the concept of "getting over" something. Pigeons hold grudges, you know. That's why they poop on everything. But then he puffed up like he was trying to attain the size of a turkey.
"So, Horatio, in case you didn't notice, you've departed. You're deceased. So how about moving on, huh? Maybe stop haunting me? Your body's in a plastic grocery bag in the dumpster, man. There's a great new afterlife with lots of Corollas to poop on, so how about leaving mine alone and going to the next dimension?"
"I will NEVER leave until my vengence has been completely and totally fulfilled!"
"What can you do?" I pointed out logically. "You're dead. I shot you with my slingshot and winged you. Mom saw you hobbling along and slammed you to a bloody feathery pulp with our broom. You broke it twice, you know. We had to buy a new one."
"It's your own damn fault!" Eugene grumbled, staring at the lack of feathers on his ethreal form. "You could've just left me alone!"
I pouted. "And have you leave little bird presents all over my silver transportational vehicle? I don't think so."
"It's not yours, it's your father's." Eugene countered. Score one for the pidgey.
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
The puzzled expression on his face plainly revealed that he didn't follow. "I don't understand," he whined in his grating, gravelly voice.
"That's because your brains are splattered all over the neighbor's porch, dumbass." I replied. "Go on, be honest. Why are ya stickin' around?"
"To haunt my murderer, of course!" Eugene replied, pecking my face. Being a ghost, he couldn't really hit me, but maybe that made him feel better. "I will follow you and torment you to the ends of the earth!"
"Whatever." I said, standing up and brushing the dirt off my butt. "I think I'll go get some popcorn chicken from KFC."
Eugene suddenly remembered some urgent appointment and had to leave, but he promised to be back to make my life a painful, miserable, meaningless existance.
Poor little pigeon.