BIRD CULT

BIRD CULT

    Warren “The Eye” Peepers engaged every weekend in his favorite hobby, bird-watching. He could not wait to finish his job at a major New York Hotel. He was the supervisor of the cleaning staff at the Hilton Eagle.

    He spent every Saturday and Sunday perched on his safari chair with his high-powered, military binoculars, observing birds that flew into Central Park. He recorded each bird sighting on his iPad, sitting there from before dawn until after dusk, stopping only for a quick lunch at various green-grocers nearby. His favorite was the Little Sparrow Market on Fifth Avenue.

    One Sunday there was very little avian activity. Warren decided to get a sandwich and a bottle of his favorite, ‘Hawk Punch’. When he entered the store, something was amiss. The owners, Mr. and Mrs. Parakeet, were nowhere to be seen. Another couple had taken over he place. Warren asked where the Parakeets were. The new couple replied that they had just purchased the establishment from them as they wished to return to their hometown in the Canary Islands. Warren hoped they would run the place as well as the previous owners.

    He ordered his usual sandwich, grilled chicken breast on seeded rye with mayo, a tomato slice with a pickle on the side, accompanied, of course, by his ‘Hawk Punch’.

    While his sandwich was being prepared, Warren felt very uneasy. Then he saw it! Each of the new owners possessed a red, pulsating membrane behind their ears! He had never seen anything like this before and couldn’t wait to get out of the place.

    He paid for his lunch and was leaving, when an invisible force restrained him. He was then lifted by this same force and guided to the rear of the store and placed on a long metal table.

    Soon the new owners were joined by a score of others, each with a different colored membrane! Each of the had had the exact hair color, looking like black metal wires, tinged with green and combed straight back onto a red ribbon on the nape of their necks.

    They lashed Warren onto the table. By now he was in an advanced state of panic. They started examining him closely and thoroughly, peering into every body orifice, forcing a urine sample and extracting several vials of blood.

    Warren wanted to scream for help, but no sound emanated from his mouth. The only movement he was capable of was the blinking of his eyes. He lost consciousness. The next thing he knew he was back on his chair in Central Park, his binoculars and iPad by his side, his sandwich and drink untouched on his lap. There was no ‘Hawk Punch’ to be seen. It was six PM – five hours had passed.

    Warren quickly threw away the sandwich, gathered his gear and high-tailed it out of the park. He thought he just had a memory lapse and could not recall what happened after he entered the deli.

    Warren vowed to continue his bird-watching routine, but from now on would prepare his own lunch before he left his apartment. He never ate another chicken sandwich again!

    Then one morning he discovered something growing behind his ears…

    Warren “The Eye” Peepers engaged every weekend in his favorite hobby, bird-watching. He could not wait to finish his job at a major New York Hotel. He was the supervisor of the cleaning staff at the Hilton Eagle.

    He spent every Saturday and Sunday perched on his safari chair with his high-powered, military binoculars, observing birds that flew into Central Park. He recorded each bird sighting on his iPad, sitting there from before dawn until after dusk, stopping only for a quick lunch at various green-grocers nearby. His favorite was the Little Sparrow Market on Fifth Avenue.

    One Sunday there was very little avian activity. Warren decided to get a sandwich and a bottle of his favorite, ‘Hawk Punch’. When he entered the store, something was amiss. The owners, Mr. and Mrs. Parakeet, were nowhere to be seen. Another couple had taken over he place. Warren asked where the Parakeets were. The new couple replied that they had just purchased the establishment from them as they wished to return to their hometown in the Canary Islands. Warren hoped they would run the place as well as the previous owners.

    He ordered his usual sandwich, grilled chicken breast on seeded rye with mayo, a tomato slice with a pickle on the side, accompanied, of course, by his ‘Hawk Punch’.

    While his sandwich was being prepared, Warren felt very uneasy. Then he saw it! Each of the new owners possessed a red, pulsating membrane behind their ears! He had never seen anything like this before and couldn’t wait to get out of the place.

    He paid for his lunch and was leaving, when an invisible force restrained him. He was then lifted by this same force and guided to the rear of the store and placed on a long metal table.

    Soon the new owners were joined by a score of others, each with a different colored membrane! Each of the had had the exact hair color, looking like black metal wires, tinged with green and combed straight back onto a red ribbon on the nape of their necks.

    They lashed Warren onto the table. By now he was in an advanced state of panic. They started examining him closely and thoroughly, peering into every body orifice, forcing a urine sample and extracting several vials of blood.

    Warren wanted to scream for help, but no sound emanated from his mouth. The only movement he was capable of was the blinking of his eyes. He lost consciousness. The next thing he knew he was back on his chair in Central Park, his binoculars and iPad by his side, his sandwich and drink untouched on his lap. There was no ‘Hawk Punch’ to be seen. It was six PM – five hours had passed.

    Warren quickly threw away the sandwich, gathered his gear and high-tailed it out of the park. He thought he just had a memory lapse and could not recall what happened after he entered the deli.

    Warren vowed to continue his bird-watching routine, but from now on would prepare his own lunch before he left his apartment. He never ate another chicken sandwich again!

    Then one morning he discovered something growing behind his ears…