mo' murda

The murder that roosts down the street from me mobs 50 strong. They perch on power lines, hippity-hopping, attitudes blithe and curious. My first inclination was to train them, as I had seen on YouTube. Peanuts, mostly. Occasionally an egg.

The goal was to bribe them with treats so they would do my bidding. You see, I have many enemies, both real and imagined. I fantasized about summoning these midnight messengers to swarm unsuspecting foes. I needed to satiate my primal, cthonic urge for conquest. I played out scenarios where my ink-blot vengeance would descend upon fools who dared challenge me. A slash of crimson across dark canvas.

Devour their souls, minions! My miscreants, my mystical companions, my dark steel! Use your clever claws to gouge and pierce and screech and howl across a backdrop of nether horizon! My winged attache, we shall traverse the void and return with forbidden knowledge to advance my occult. LEAD THE WAY! LEAD ME ACROSS THAT SPECTRAL BRIDGE INTO THE BEWILDERING MAJESTY OF THE UNKNOWN! LET US CONJOIN IN SPIRIT AND TRAVERSE THE EDGES OF THE GALAXY! HARK! HARK! WE WILL CAW TOGETHER IN THE DIM MYSTERY THAT IS THE MOON! MY WINGED CRUSADE! MY SORCERER’S MANTLE! MY OTHERWORLDLY FAMILIARS!

…

In the very least, they could shit on the cars that were double parked for me.

Maybe we could just hang out, I dunno.