In the hallowed halls of the National Parliament, where echoes of forgotten debates lingered like stale coffee, the Temporary Committee on the Eradication of Urban Pigeon Overpopulation was born. It was the year 2022, and the nation was in crisis. Pigeons—those feathered nuisances—had overrun public squares, parks, and monuments. Droppings coated statues of long-dead heroes, turning symbols of valor into abstract art installations. Tourists complained, health officials fretted about avian flu, and one particularly vocal MP claimed a pigeon had stolen his sandwich during a photo op. "This is an assault on our sovereignty!" he thundered in the House.
Thus, with great fanfare and a hastily drafted resolution, the committee was formed. It was to be temporary, of course—a swift, surgical strike against the winged menace. Chaired by the Honorable Reginald Blusterworth, a backbencher with a penchant for windbaggery, the committee...
Comments