Tony Broke

Bad news, I'm afraid. I'm flat broke - Doris wanted me to come round the sales with her, but I spent my last dosh on a sparkly bell for her cage.

My plans for world domination will have to go on hold for a while I get some more pocket money. Can't even borrow any - all the local cats I mugged are spent up after Xmas, too.

I saw a really cool prog on the telly last night. Some bloke found lots of gold rings and stuff while digging up his garden. This gave me an idea!

Only problem is, pigeons aren't really equipped to dig. I must have a word with the Mole...

It's Christmas!

On the first day of Christmas my budgie brought to me

12 Big Macs

11 sausage rolls

10 cheesy pizzas

9 Chorley Cakes

8 mince pies

7 scotch eggs

6 chip barmcakes

5 CHOCOLATE LOGS

4 jam butties

3 Christmas cakes

2 Cornish pasties

One massive trifle

Then this pigeon fell from the pear tree!

 

HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

Problems, problems

Well, Cuddles has gone home to his Mum at last. Doris flew down to the local duckpond and tracked her down, so all is quiet in the garden again.
This is a difficult time for a plumpish pigeon who enjoys his food. Nuts or nibbles? Mince pie or Chorley cake? Chocolate log or Xmas cake? Or just scoff the lot (and get a tummyache, but who cares?)
The only thing I really have a Qualm about is Stuffing.

Who IS the Daddy?

Well, it’s hatched – and it ain’t no pigeon! Cuddles looks like some kind of duck to me! I reckon Big Vanessa was just playing a trick on me. But what do I do with him? Cuddles thinks I’m his Mum, and keeps following me all round the garden. I suppose I’d better try and find his real Mum. Just wait till I get hold of Big Vanessa!

Get Ready!

The egg's definitely cracking! It's opening! It's ...it's....

Who's the Daddy?

Help! Big Vanessa has served a paternity suit! Says she’ll set the Chick Support Agency onto me unless I cough up some lolly – and fast!
I know we had a bit of a ‘fling,’ but it never went further than billing and cooing.
The worst of it is, Doris Budgie believes her! She slammed the door in my face when I went round for my fried egg butty for breakfast!
What shall I do? How do I prove the kid ain’t mine?

Still Waiting

Bloomin' money spiders! Still no sign of the untold riches I expected.

I wonder if I should've bought a lottery ticket?

Quids in

I found two money spiders today. It said on the telly that some bloke won the lottery the same day he found a money spider, so it won't be long now before the doubloons start rolling in...

Home Sweet Home

Home at last. Dave Spiky was finally evicted/rescued by our wonderful fire service - turns out he was just too scared to climb down the tree again. I offered to boot Dave out of my nest and break his fall with Tiddles, but neither of them were impressed with my Cunning Plan.

I'm going to have a lovely sleep now...zzzzzzzzz...

Varmint

Fed up with that flea-ridden varmint, Dave Spiky. He won't budge from my lovely nest. I've been reduced to kippin' on 'Arry Alsatian's sofa, which isn't ideal, to say the least. 'Arry's breath could strip paint at 10 paces, it's so 'orrible. Must be all the bones he scoffs.

I rang the Pest Control people, but as soon as I said I was a pigeon, for some reason they thought I was taking the mickey.

If this goes on much longer, I'll start wasting away.

Hello Dave

Help! There's a squatter in my new nest! His name's Dave Spiky, and he's a right prickly character! How do I get him out of my boudoir?

Bombed out

Haven't got time to talk much this morning. On Bonfire Night, I went to keep poor Doris Budgie company (she's terrified of fireworks.) We had a nice cuppa cocoa and some chocolate millet, while I tried to persuade her that fireworks aren't really scary.

Then when I came back home, I found some Baboon had let off a huge rocket nearby - and the tree with my cosy little nest in it had caught fire! There's just a smouldering heap on the ground now, and a smell of barbecued Chorley cakes (sob.)

So I must build a nice new nest before nightfall - I don't want to sleep rough with Tiddles on the prowl.

It's a dog's life, being a pigeon.

How to watch wildlife

And another thing...I was mooching along a country lane, tryin' to think up a new way of taking over the world, when I came across one of those twitcher blokes. Y'know, dodgy anorak, bird book with lots of pretty pictures, mad staring eyes glued to binoculars ...He was all excited coz he'd just spotted a pied jaffinch or something.

Now you would think seeing a pigeon of my unusual proportions would stop a twitcher in his tracks, but no, he just ignored me, jabbering to himself about warblers and whatnot.

So I said, "Aren't you going to note me down in your book?"

He just snorted.

"Look pal," I snarled, "I'm the biggest pigeon in the world, and I reckon that deserves a really big tick in your notebook."

I won't shock my Gentle Readers with his uncalled-for comments on the Noble Breed of Pigeons.

Let's just say he's now doing a Bill Oddie and looking for wildlife down the bottom of an eight-foot-deep muddy ditch.

Head first!

The homecoming

I came home last night to find the SAS had not only eaten all my Chorley cakes, but also the tin of king-size Mars bars I was saving for a peckish moment. Bloomin' cheek!

Had a good holiday, although as usual me and Doris Budgie ended up not speaking. I took her on the Ghost Train thinking it would be romantic, and hoping for some friendly billing and cooing, but no such luck. She had an Yvette Fielding moment when a green 'ghoul' popped up in front of the train and wouldn't stop screaming for an hour.

Back to the grind, I suppose. Time to check out all the bird feeders and see what goodies have appeared while I've been away.

On guard

Well, it's time for my autumn break. I was a bit worried about leaving all my ill-gotten gains (and Chorley cakes) unguarded all week, though (let's face it, Gorgeous Gary is too much of a big softie to be a proper henchman.) So I asked some hard mates to keep an eye on things and make sure Tiddles doesn't come prowling around. Curly, Larry and Mo are from the SAS (Special Attack Sheep) regiment and they don't take kindly to anyone butting in on their territory.
See you next week!

Disillusioned

I flew down to Tesco's and tracked down some Chorley cakes. They were smaller than I remembered. But you'll never believe this - they were made in East Kilbride! And the Eccles cakes I bought were made in Ardwick.
The whole world has gone mad.
If I discover next that Kendal mint cake isn't made in Kendal and that Victoria sponges aren't made by Queen Victoria I'm going to give up and stick to Empire biscuits.
Made in the British Empire, of course.

Harold

This is Harold Hairybreeks, who claims to be the world's hairiest sheep. He's from Denmark, and rowed over in his Viking longboat one evening to have drinks and nibbles with me and Doris. He's very partial to fish finger butties. (With peas.)

Where are they now?

I was sitting on top of the climbing frame, feeling peckish as usual, when I suddenly wondered why you never see Chorley cakes any more. (For soft southerners, a Chorley cake is like a giant eccles cake.) Or Dundee biscuits. Mmm- chocolately. And, for that matter, whatever happened to Aztec bars?

I think we, the public, have a Right to Know.

Top of the Pops

Me singing Molyan's song.
As you can see, I've gone completely potty about Molyan's song (see Molyan)
All my pigeon pals are crazy about it. I can't get the words out of my head. It's bound to go straight to Number One of the Pigeon Pop charts (not Number Two.)

Save Our Sydney

I see my chum Sydney the Giant Squid is in the news. (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/4288772.stm). (Me and Doris met him when we were on holiday in the Canaries.) Some nasty scientists trapped him with some big hooks and filmed him for FOUR HOURS struggling to break free. Did they help him once they'd finished their horror movie? No. He only got free once his poor tentacle broke off.
I was thinking of inviting him to stay while he recuperates. Lexica's only got a paddling pool, though - maybe me and Gertie could pool our resources. Gorgeous Gary suggested we sellotape up the garden shed and fill it with water, but I said that was a Stupid Idea. Even this pigeon knows you can't fit a 30ft giant squid into a 6x4 shed.
It would be really cool having him here though. The smirk on Tiddles Clutterbuck's furry face would disappear pretty quick if Sydney jumped out from behind the garden shed. That would stop him chasing pigeons and baby sparrows for supper...
I'm just off to find a Get Well card and write him an invite...

Where's our dinner?

Hello Pip and Squeak

Isn't Doris Budgie a great chum? She saw I was pining for Bernard/Bjorn, so she got me some new pets to play with.Though what she thinks I have in common with 2 little animals who do nothing all day except eat, sleep and build nests is anyone's guess.

Missing Bjorn

My turnip lies over the ocean

My turnip lies over the sea

My turnip lies over the ocean

Oh bring back my turnip to me...(Sob.)

Hen night

Here's a Polaroid of Doris Budgie's chums enjoying a hen night. Shocking, isn't it? Doris will be all over the News of the World if she isn't careful.

A narrow squeak

Had a close call this morning. Nearly got eaten by Tiddles Clutterbuck!
It seems he was very impressed by Derek the Sheep's ninja skills and has been practising. There I was, enjoying a fried egg butty for my breakfast, when I suddenly felt someone's warm breath on my neck and instinctively flew for cover - smack into Lexica's window! As I perched on the windowledge, stunned, I saw that rotten moggy slink away into the raspberry bushes. I was very nearly Tiddles' Tweety-Pie sandwich!
And if all that isn't bad enough, I'm getting really worried about Doris Budgie.
Her big night out at Derek's disco has given her a taste for the high life, and now she's out till all hours at one hen night after another. Where will it all end?

Space sheep

My mate Gorgeous Gary said that commun-ications will be very important when I take over the world, so we flew over Duckshire to see some big radio dishes.

Derek the Sheep fans will know that sheep are big star freaks, but these woolly chums are really into radio astronomy.

The top astronomer sheep, Patrick Moorino, showed us round and we had a great time.

I asked if the big dishes fill up with snow in the winter and he said yes, and told us about a brilliant wheeze. He waits till one of the other sheep is hard at work, making adjustments to the radio dish, then tips the whole dish full of snow - whumpf!- onto his unsuspecting chum!

Some crazy radio stars called pulsars were discovered here, but Patrick let us into a little secret.

It seems when they first discovered the pulsar signals, they told all the press and all the other astronomer sheep got really jealous.

When they finally twigged the signals were coming from Doris Budgie's microwave as she heated up her millet burgers, they were so embarrassed they didn't dare tell anyone.

So next time you see some astronomer dude on the telly spouting theories about black holes and gravity lenses and whatever, you'll know The Truth.

Which is out there somewhere in Doris Budgie's cage...

Him again!

You would think the Internet was full up with daft animals, what with talking sheep, ghost fish and a moggy called Paws. But now

TheMole

is stirring up trouble - he's got his very own blog.
Huh!

The Erroneous Vegetable Affair

GUESS WHAT!

It wasn't Bernard the Goat we kidnapped after all! It was a swede called Bjorn who was here on holiday.

I got a postcard from his sister today:

Dear Fat Tony

I'm writing on behalf of my brother Bjorn to thank you (his English isn't very good) for the lovely holiday he had in the POW theme park. He particularly enjoyed the finale, with his escape through The Mole's tunnel. He said cricket is a stupid game, though.

love

Agnetha.

 

I guess you would think cricket is a stupid game if you'd been knocked for six by Freddie Flintoff.

But a POW camp! I told Lexica the barbed wire and searchlights to keep the neighbourhood cats out was going OTT.

Guess it's back to the drawing board yet again. I will have to come up with yet another plan to take over the world. Vegetable extortion is just a load of compost, if you ask me.

A slight miscalculation

Mission accom-plished! Oi've successfully rescued Bernard the turnip. He do talk funny, though. Oi seem to have taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque - Oi meant to deliver Bernard safely to Derek the Sheep's field, and us've popped up in the middle of a cricket match.
Help! Bernard's rolled onto the pitch! Shane Warne thinks he's a cricket ball!
He's bowling him towards Freddie Flintoff!
OI CAN'T LOOK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Where's me turnip gone?

Last night I heard my turnip singing a song

Coo-ee, turnip turnip sheep sheep

Woke up this morning and my turnip was gone

Coo-ee, turnip turnip sheep sheep

Turnip turnip sheep sheep burp.

 

I've looked everywhere - under my nest, behind the garden shed, even inside the compost heap. All I found was the Mole's yucky slug collection. And it wasn't pretty...

For sale

One mouldy root vegetable. Slightly used. Some sheep damage. Answers to the name of Bjørn. Dominoes fiend. Will swap for bag of chips or a pie and mushy peas.

Mole to the rescue

Hurr Hurr! Time to stop Fat Tony's evil plan! Oi'm going to mount a rescue mission!

In a stew

Times are hard here in Lexica's garden. This bloomin' turnip kept me up all night wanting to play dominoes and poker. I don't know where Doris Budgie got to on Saturday night - she staggered into her cage after midnight, wearing a party hat and blowing raspberries on a party tooter, fell off her perch and slept it all off in a corner of her cage with her feet up in the air.
I'm beginning to wonder if Gorgeous Gary has led me astray here. Whenever I call Bernard "Bernard," he starts saying "Bjorn, Bjorn!"
G. Gary promised me he'd snaffled a world famous goat for extortion purposes.
Still, there's no need to panic just yet.
1. Bernard the Goat is still missing, so it probably is him - perhaps he's got magnesia or something after eating too many underpants.
2. No-one else except Gorgeous G. knows I've got him.
3. There's still no reply to my ransom note, so Derek the Sheep and pals are probably emptying out their piggy banks to pay me my £1000.
(Though the ton of pigeon food might be nice - I'm peckish today.)
4. If it isn't Bernard, maybe someone else will pay the ransom for him. But they'd better hurry up - he's eating me out of nest and home.

Baffled

Goat language is really weird. I offered our 'guest' some chips, but he just keeps jumping up and down on the spot and squeaking Var är toaletten, var är toaletten!
He also got very excited when Gorgeous Gary played his Abba CD.
In fact, considering he's a kidnap victim, our vegetable friend seems to be having a whale of a time.

Heh, heh, heh.

The next phase of my plan to take over the world has begun!

Pigeons are go!

My henchman Gorgeous Gary (a great hit with the lady pigeons) pointed out last night that Criminal Masterminds who Take Over the World always have a Top Secret Hideaway. He also said the top of the climbing frame (or the garden shed when it rains) isn't really much use as a Base. So today me and Gary flew around looking for a new one. I thought a castle might be good, so we zoomed over to one nearby.

You won't believe it, but there wasn't a wall left standing! The place was in a right mess! I will have to think of something else.

Taking over the world is a whole lot more complicated than I thought...

 

A pigeon's philosophy

Fat Tony here. A Certain Sheep - see

Derek's Diary

says that all I ever think about is Food. Nothing could be further from the truth. I often think Deep and Meaningful Thoughts while perched here on top of the climbing frame. As I survey the poached egg plants in the border, and clouds like fluffy mashed potato sail majestically overhead, I muse on life, the universe, and whether Motorhead's lyrics lack a feminist perspective.
I wonder if the chippy's open yet?

Wedged tight

Lexica here.

I'm so FED UP with Fat Tony. I didn't think it was possible for him to get any bigger, but he obviously over-indulged while on holiday in the Canary Islands. I had to get firecrews in AGAIN today when he got wedged inside the bird-table (it has a little wooden roof) and couldn't get out. I thought they were going to have to saw my poor bird-table in half, but the fireman just gave Fat Tony a massive boot up the backside and he popped out - BANG! - like a giant feathery cork.

"You'll just have to stop putting bread out, missus," the fireman said.

"I tried putting him on a diet," I said. "I have to smuggle peanuts to the poor little bluetits when Fat Tony isn't looking."

The question is, how do I stop him mugging the neighbours when they're eating a kebab?

Fat Tony's passion wagon!

Gotta new motor

Heh, heh, heh. What a wizard wheeze that was. A huge thank you to all my pigeon pals for helping me to break out of the Big Birdbrain garden and 'liberate' the prize money! I took my feathery chums down to the chippy and we had a huge chip butty each.

I invested my 'winnings' in a new car. Much classier than the postie's bike. Nice, innit? Doris Budgie and me took a spin down to the pizza parlour last night to celebrate - a romantic evening for two, now Big Vanessa has gone at last! A great girl, Doris - and knows when to keep her beak shut.

Me and Doris are off on holiday now for a few days. The Canary Isles are nice and sunny at this time of year and a long way away from Inspector Jack Daw and his beady eyes…

And I'll have some peace and quiet to dream up the next stage of my plan to TAKE OVER THE WORLD!

A shocked Davina talking to the press.

Sprung by da mob

Police were called to the Big Birdbrain garden last night after the £50,000 prize was stolen. "It was terrifying, " plucky TV presenter Davina Macquack said in a special press conference this morning. "We were all geared up for eviction night. Big Vanessa had been voted out by the other garden mates and was getting ready for the cameras, trying to cover her shame with a teatowel after Doris pecked off her tail, when suddenly the sky went dark.

Thousands of pigeons descended on the garden. Feathers were flying everywhere. They smashed the cameras, and everything was in confusion. Nobody knew what was happening, not even Big Birdbrain. The pigeons suddenly disappeared - when everything calmed down, we realised the prize money and Fat Tony had vanished."

"Nuttasha Kerplunkski here, DNN News. Are Doris Budgie and Big Vanessa OK?"

"They're very shocked, but fine. We found Big V. in the garden shed, eating the cress sandwiches I brought for supper. She's clinched a magazine deal, but the photo shoot will have to wait till her tail has grown back. Doris Budgie went back in her cage. She refused to comment on the incident."

"Do you think Fat Tony has been kidnapped?"

"I've got my own theory on that, but my legal team have advised me to say 'no comment.'  I can tell you Fat Tony was very unhappy after the gardenmates failed to complete their task and they were put on iron rations."

"What have the police said?"

"Inspector Jack Daw is on the case. But he said he faces an impossible task - how will he identify the pigeons responsible? There are millions out there..."

Washing up

Day 1000000000000000001 in the Big Birdbrain garden. It's 27 hours and 92 minutes since Doris Budgie pulled out all Big Vanessa's tail feathers and made them into a feather duster. Big Vanessa is hiding behind the compost heap.

It's Fat Tony's turn to do the washing up.

 

Ten minutes later, Fat Tony is called to the Diary Perch.

Big Birdbrain: It was your turn to do the washing up this morning, Fat Tony.

Fat Tony: I did!

Big Birdbrain: Throwing all the crocks into the bird bath and jumping up and down on them doesn't count.

There isn't a single cup and saucer left unbroken.

Fat Tony: Gaaaaaaaah! Washing up's a mug's game!

Big Birdbrain: Big Birdbrain will reduce your rations if you don't complete your alloted task properly, Anthony.

Fat Tony: Yeah, you and whose army? I'll sit down hard on anyone who tries to cut down on my chip butties!

Big Birdbrain: Ahem! Who do you nominate for eviction this week, Fat Tony?

Fat Tony: Big Vanessa! Me and Doris Budgie want to get back together again. How can I coo sweet nothings in her ear with a two ton pigeon in the way?

Big Birdbrain: The task for the gardenmates this week is a tough one. Failure to complete it will mean no more chip butties or kebabs, Fat Tony. Using only the bits of tissue spread around the garden from Lexica's washing (why doesn't she check the jeans pockets properly?) you must construct a treehouse capable of bearing the weight of yourself, Big Vanessa and Doris for ten seconds...

Fat Tony: Coo!

Tensions rise

Day 2 in the Big Birdbrain garden. 11.43 am. It's 5minutes and 73 seconds since the gardenmates had their second breakfast. Fat Tony is snuggled up under a polka dot duvet. Big Vanessa and Doris Budgie are arguing over who has to clean out the oven.

 

11.44 am. A worm pokes its head above ground, spots Fat Tony and hurries back into his burrow.

11.45 am. The Ant Motorcycle Display Team take a spin round the garden. It's their last chance to practise their 1000 ant pyramid before the Guinness Book of Records man arrives.

11.46 am. Big Vanessa swoops down on the 1000 ant pyramid and scoffs the lot.

 

Doris Budgie is called to the Diary Perch.

"I nominate Big V. for eviction this week. This morning was the final straw. Poor Andy Ant and all his chums have been practising for months.

Plus, Vanessa is a publicity-seeking madam who wants her own magazine deal with the Pigeon Post. "My secret love nest with Fat Tony", you know the kind of thing.

Jealous? Of course I'm not jealous of that oversized *****. Anyway, she's got to go. That greedy pig has even nicked my cuttlefish."

Who goes? Who stays? You, the bloggers decide...

 

Big Birdbrain

Day 1 in the Big Birdbrain Garden. 10.01am. It's 3 minutes and 15 seconds since the Big Birdbrain gardenmates had their breakfast.

Fat Tony and Big Vanessa are in the birch tree. Doris Budgie is doing the washing up.

10.02 am. An ant crawls across the path.

11.26am. The ant crawls back again.

12.96 am. A leaf blows in from next door's garden.

13.05pm. A ladybird falls off a twig.

 

Which gardenmate is up for eviction this week?

 

To evict FAT TONY text 123BIGBUTT NOW.

To evict BIG VANESSA text123TWOTONS NOW.

To evict DORIS BUDGIE text123CUTELITTLEBLUEBUDGIE NOW.

Big Vanessa on the prowl. She's waddling so fast in her hurry to find some crumbs, she's a blur of movement. This pigeon can break the speed of sound if she spots a jam butty.

The mole gardening

Oi'm Sorry, Lexica

Me (the Mole) and all my chums've been busy filling in the giant crater for Lexica.
Oi didn't mean it to happen - it's all that stupid great pigeon's fault for being so FAT! All Oi was trying to do was tunnel under the climbing frame so it would fall into a neat little hole, complete with Fat Tony.
But Fat T's so HUGE it all went 'orribly wrong.
Lexica was very cross. She said next toime it rains, she'd end up with a girt big lake in her garden. Oi said she could use it as a swimming pool, but she reckoned it'd be full o' worms.
What be wrong with luvverly worms, anyway? Or slugs.
Anyroad, us've worked hard and filled it all in agin.
Lexica done promised us a noice cuppa tea and a Garibaldi biscuit when we be all finished.
Oi was worried Fat Tony'd come and squash poor Oi if he saw Oi, but 'ee's bein' chased by that Big Vanessa - Two Tons of Fun.
Hurr hurr!

The Price of Fame

The problem with appearing on the telly (even if all the viewers can see is your feet waving around at the bottom of a Giant Pit) is that you become an instant celebrity. And acquire a Stalker.
Mine is called Big Vanessa, and I just can't shake her off.
As you know, I'm a slightly-larger-than-usual pigeon (just slightly) but trees crash and buildings topple when Big V. flies past.
I tried puffing myself up to twice my usual size, and the dozy pigeon thought this was a 'come-on'!
She's following me about everywhere, and even tried to muscle in on my nice nest (tastefully lined with copies of the Beano.)
And the worst - the absolute Worst- of it all - I can hardly tell you this, it's so Awful...
She keeps pinching my chips!
Big Vanessa has got to go. And soon - or I'll be a shadow of my former self...

Out of the fryingpan

NOT feeling too chipper this morning. I've lost loads of feathers after spending a whole day and night upside down in a giant crater in Lexica's garden. The big crane arrived at 3am (oh, the shame!) and hoisted me out. The crane operator and firemen were very nice, even if they did suggest I stick to salads from now on.
But just wait till I get hold of that Mole! The firemen thought the crater was caused by a gas explosion or something, but I saw the little blighter scurrying away as I headed towards Australia.
I don't think the climbing frame is going to be the same again.
Every cloud has a silver lining though - Lexica's not too pleased with the Mole! She's lost all her petunias - and there's nowhere to peg out her washing.
Doris Budgie has promised to make me some breakfast - she said I need to regain my strength after my Ordeal.
Hope it's eggy bread. I LOVE eggy bread. With brown sauce. And sausages. And beans. And...

The Mole being interviewed by Nuttasha

Pit of Peril

"Nuttasha Kerplunkski reporting, DNN News.
Police and firecrews are at the scene on a street in leafy Duckshire.
A giant crater, over 100ft wide, has appeared in Lexica's garden.
Mr Mole, you just happened to be passing by when this incident occurred. Can you tell us what happened?"

"Hur hurr, Oi sure did. That stupid great pigeon was perched atop of the climbing frame as usual, when boom! there were a girt big rumblin' noise, and the 'ole darn lot disappeared down into a dirty big 'ole."

"You must have been frightened, Mr Mole."

"Oi dunno about that - Oi was too busy splittin' my sides fit to bust, Oi was."

"I'm just going to ask the police chief to update us on the situation...

"POLICE!"

"Where are you going in such a hurry, Mr Mole?"

"Urr...Oi think Oi left the gas on..."

"Officer, how is the rescue attempt progressing?"

"Well, Nuttasha, we're waiting for the arrival of a giant crane from the next county so that we can hoist the pigeon out. He's still at the bottom of the pit, feet waving in the air, surrounded by the remains of a child's climbing frame."

"Do we know the identity of the victim, Officer?"

"Fat Tony. He's well known to the local police."

"Oh. Why doesn't he just, well...FLY out of the crater?"

"Heh, heh, heh. It seems that owing to his enormous size, the only way Fat Tony can usually reach escape velocity is to take a death-defying leap off the climbing frame first, then flap his wings at high speed."

"Any theories as to what could have caused this immense crater, Officer?"

"Well, it could be an earthquake. Duckshire isn't usually noted for earthquake activitiy, though."

"Could it be mole activity? There have been reports..."

"No, I think that's a red herring."

"It all sounds very fishy to me. Thank you again, Officer. Well, we'll obviously update viewers as soon as possible, but it's back to the studio for the latest celebrity news. It's been reported Derek the Sheep is wearing bright pink underpants on his head. A new fashion?
This is Nuttasha Kerplunkski, DNN News, signing off."

Stop the mole!

Bloomin' Norah! I've spent all week trying to catch the strange burrowing creature in my garden. Lexica said it's a mole, and that I was to leave the CUTE (cute!) little darling alone. The only cute darling round here is Doris Budgie. And if that blinkin' mole doesn't stop digging up my garden, I'm going to have to get some of my big pigeon friends (not as big as me, obviously) to - well, EXPLAIN his options to him.

Grrrrrrrr!

Just wait till I get hold of that mangy moggy Tiddles! I spent days under the garden shed, hiding from the inland revenue guys, when I heard Jack Daw and Doris Budgie sniggering away next door.

PIGEONS DON'T PAY INCOME TAX!

It was really scary under the shed - full of spiders and giant slugs (though these were really tasty). But the ground keeps shaking - and I'm sure I can hear snuffling noises underground. Is Duckshire in an earthquake zone?

Or am I going Crackers? 

I need a nice chippy tea to calm my nerves...

In hiding

I'm keeping a low profile today. Tiddles Clutterbuck told me the Inland Revenue guys are in the area checking up on all the pigeons who haven't paid their dues.
I've got a lot of money from my 'insurance' schemes hidden under my nest.
My accident insurance scheme is quite simple - the neighbourhood moggies pay me protection money, and I protect them from being accidentally dropped on by a great height. By a large pigeon. Fair enough isn't it?

An Ode To Doris?

I'm desperate to win Doris back - that Inspector Jack Daw keeps hanging about, bringing her flowers and boxes of chocs (which she wouldn't share with me, the meanie.) So I was inspired by Lexica's rap to write a poem. Poetry always gets women all slushy.
I made a start but then got stuck. Rhyming stuff is really hard - I reckon the poem needs some more work doing on it - it's too short.
'Arry Alsatian said he didn't think it was romantic enough, but then what does a stupid mutt know about poetry anyway?

Please forgive me, Doris Budgie
Why has our love gone
Down the cludgie?

Fat Tony's Rap

Look out world

The name's Fat Tony

If I get no chips

Then I get real moany

 

World Domination

Is my game

An enormous butt's

My claim to fame!

The Mole!

Introducing The Mole! Fat Tony's arch-nemesis!
"Oooh arr! That pigeon'd better watch out!"

FAT TONY ON TV!

 

Lexica here! I couldn't believe my eyes! I was watching  'Have I got News for You' tonight on BBC1 when Fat Tony turned up - larger than life! Look out for him on the last 5 mins of the show on Saturday night's repeat at 10pm, BBC2.

strange noises

I'm really REALLY FED UP.

Doris Budgie won't come and see the new Star Wars movie with me.

She said "There's no way I'm going to the pictures with you again, Anthony. It was so embarrassing, sitting with a pigeon who took up 4 seats on his own. And you ordered popcorn in a skip!"

Huh. She eats like a bird, anyway. I just happen to have a healthy appetite.

There's something very strange going on in the garden. I was perched on top of the kids' climbing frame, tucking into some fish fingers I'd pinched from Tiddles Clutterbuck (next door's moggy), when I heard some very odd noises. Almost like someone digging or tunnelling.

And there's another sound, too. A bit like a Wurzel stuck down a mine shaft. "oooh arrr, oooh arrr.'

What could it be?

when the pigeon's away

 

LEXICA here.

Well, Fat Tony's back - and looking very sorry for himself, with his tail between his legs. (Not easy when you're a pigeon.)

I was VERY cross when I found out what he'd been up to. What a meanie! Fancy trying to kidnap Derek! The poor sheep will have conniptions every time he sees a pigeon now.

But what a wimp Fat Tony turned out to be! Beaten by Lenny's balloon and Bernard the goat.

F.T. keeps wandering round the garden, grumbling about Insensitive Balloons and how he'll get his Revenge on the Whole World.

But he'd better watch out - a little friend and I are ready and waiting in case he comes up with another bird-brained scheme. That overweight pigeon has made holes in my lawn when landing once too often!

Curses! Foiled again!

Fat Tony's Plan for world domination
1. Find Derek's field in Papua New Guinea.
2. Kidnap Derek the Sheep!
3. Sell Britain's favourite sheep on e-Bay for 50 squillion pounds!
4. Take over the World!

What could possibly go wrong?
Everything, that's what. The bike I 'borrowed' got two flat tyres and collapsed after half a mile. I had to hitch a lift on a tractor all the rest of the way.
When I finally found Derek's field - he wasn't there! All I could find was some dozy sheep with a yukky nose and a stupid balloon.
First the silly sheep kept going on and on about how he couldn't understand my Northern accent.Then that rotten balloon kept making unkind remarks about my weight!
It's not my fault I have a slow metabolism. I tried to peck the balloon but a mean-looking goat turned up. "Derek's gone to watch the new Star Wars movie! Now clear off before I call the police!" he bleated.
What a cheek!
And I'm not a ginormous smelly fat whale of a pigeon, either! Flippin' balloon!
One of my pigeon pals phoned me on my mobile to say he thought Lexica was up to something. I'm going home!
I will just have to come up with another plan to take over the world. And when I do, balloons will be first on my list of things to 'deal with'!

WANTED!

A surveillance pic of Fat Tony captured by a brave FBI Agent.

while the pigeon's away

 

Lexica here. While Fat Tony is off trying to find Papua New Guinea, some pals and I are going to start an underground movement to defeat the evil bird's fiendish plans.

I can't believe he'll get far, though. He's too fat to fly more than a couple of feet, and the postie's bike won't support his weight for very long.

Flying Squad

The name is Daw. Jack Daw. I was sent to investigate the disappearance of a postman in darkest Duckshire.

I was proceeding in an orderly fashion near the scene of the alleged disappearance when I became aware of muffled cries of "HELP! GET ME OUT OF HERE!" and a pair of smelly trainers sticking out of the top of a large prickly hedge. I extricated the trainers, and discovered there was a large postman attached to them.

I attempted to question Postie, but he was hysterical. Kept screaming about a giant pigeon and orange, scary eyes.  The pigeon, aka Fat Tony, apparently forced Postie to fill in all the RSPB junk mail and buy 50 new memberships + freebie bird food. Postie said he hadn't any money or credit cards, just a Blockbuster card, whereupon the aforementioned pigeon said "Coo! Coo! That'll do nicely, sir." He then pecked through the postbag, looking for titbits, and hurled Postie into the hedge with one biff of his mighty wing.

As I prepared to go back to the station and make my report, I spotted some net curtains twitching at the house next door. A blue budgie named Doris, (age 20, 36-24-36) confirmed the existence of the giant pigeon, but, all of a-flutter, could not confirm the orange scary eyes as the perpetrator was wearing Calvin Klein sunglasses. Fat Tony also sported a smart dinner jacket and carried a musical instrument case, balanced on the handlebars of on the postie's bike.

A traumatised kitty answering to the name of Tiddles Clutterbuck confirmed the giant bird's getaway on the Royal Mail vehicle. The moggy was at first too afraid to give evidence, but after promising Tiddles a place on the Witness Protection Programme, he confirmed Fat Tony had requested directions to Papua New Guinea and also mentioned something about World Domination.

 

This looks like a case for the Flying Squad...

 

 

 

A mystery

Still no sign of our usual postie. A new one came this morning carrying 50 RSPB memberships and 50 bird feeders filled with nuts. Very strange...

Red Alert!

Oh no! The postie has vanished! It must be Fat Tony's doing! Surely he couldn't have...surely pigeons are vegetarian...

Fat Tony

I am the biggest pigeon in the world! All will look upon me and despair (especially if they've just washed their car.) I've decided to permit Lexica to chronicle my bid for world domination... watch this space!

slug

Fat Tony (the biggest pigeon in the world) got very excited when he saw the giant slug monster on Doctor Who on Saturday. Just the right size for a tasty snack for him...

weakend

A very wet and windy Saturday morning. Fat Tony nowhere in sight, but I'd better put some bread out later - as I was working on the laptop yesterday, he was looking in through the window very menacingly at me.

true love

It looks like Fat Tony has a new girlfriend - the foolish pigeon who tried to invade Tony's territory must have got squashed by him. But a foolhardy blackbird keeps trying to shoo Tony away - Celebrity Wrestling comes to the back garden!

fat tony

 

I haven't seen Fat Tony (the biggest pigeon in the world) for a few days, but he's back this afternoon, larger than life and twice as waddly.

Escape!

Phew! I was cleaning out the gerbils when one of them made a bid for freedom - luckily I spotted her before she got too far.

joys of spring

spring was even springier yesterday. there are blue tits in the nest box, chaffinches displaying on the garden shed, and Fat Tony (the biggest pigeon in the world) has a rival for his affections for a lady pigeon.
there is still a chocolate hobnob crisis though.