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...