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One day there was a hawk with a new Commodore V8. Some birds asked why he had a V8, or any kind of vehicle, when he had two perfectly good wings but he answered with a question, which proved he was pretty switched on: “Why do human men drive when they have two perfectly good legs?”
“Ah, touché.” The birds cooed humbly.
Anyway, one day, Hawk guy was hooning around in his new V8 with a very grumbly tumbly. He hadn’t eaten for months on account of his loud, but very impressive engine.
“Sounds like a V8!” The mice would call. And they would scamper.
But Hawk guy had never had more lady hawks in the nest on account of his very impressive engine so his appetite had gone ignored for longer than it should. Now, all the chicks were having, well, chicks, so Hawk guy had gone hunting with a ravishing appetite.
He drove fast and he drove long, around and around the movie cinema in town. He gassed up twice (coz the V8 could sure burn some fumes) but still he didn’t come across any unsuspecting rodents or lizards. Hawk guy was almost about to settle for some hoon-made road kill on the outskirts of his blockie when he suddenly got the idea to make his own food!
“Of course!” Hawk guy said. “It could be hot, nutritious, and still bleeding if I’m really careful!” And so off he drove- to the outskirts of town. He waited until darkness fell, then he picked it up and placed it back in the sky.
So, the sky was covered in darkness and off Hawk guy drove again- this time quickly and with very deliberate intent. Before long there was a long, sickening screech of terror and a gut-wrenching BAM!
Hawk guy chuckled merrily and stepped out of his V8 to see what he had cooked for tea.
“Aw shit.” There, before his strong beak and beady eyes Hawk guy found a disaster. He’d dented the front of his most prized possession. It was very difficult for a large, hunting bird to get repairs done on his automobile and this would be no easy fix. Also, he’d hit a human. A stupid, jogging human. Human flesh had always made Hawk guy gag so this guy would be no good for eating, just another mess to clean up.
Hawk guy sighed, pathetically, and began to roll the man to the side of the road.
All of a sudden, a copper on a bicycle came upon the Hawk guy and the wreckage of man and car. He got on his portable two-way immediately and within seconds backup had arrived.
Hawk guy was handcuffed, locked away and, because of new hoon laws and old manslaughter laws, despite the best efforts of the Animal Rights Protection Agency, his key was thrown away.
Hawk guy died in captivity eight years later.
“Ah, touché.” The birds cooed humbly.
Anyway, one day, Hawk guy was hooning around in his new V8 with a very grumbly tumbly. He hadn’t eaten for months on account of his loud, but very impressive engine.
“Sounds like a V8!” The mice would call. And they would scamper.
But Hawk guy had never had more lady hawks in the nest on account of his very impressive engine so his appetite had gone ignored for longer than it should. Now, all the chicks were having, well, chicks, so Hawk guy had gone hunting with a ravishing appetite.
He drove fast and he drove long, around and around the movie cinema in town. He gassed up twice (coz the V8 could sure burn some fumes) but still he didn’t come across any unsuspecting rodents or lizards. Hawk guy was almost about to settle for some hoon-made road kill on the outskirts of his blockie when he suddenly got the idea to make his own food!
“Of course!” Hawk guy said. “It could be hot, nutritious, and still bleeding if I’m really careful!” And so off he drove- to the outskirts of town. He waited until darkness fell, then he picked it up and placed it back in the sky.
So, the sky was covered in darkness and off Hawk guy drove again- this time quickly and with very deliberate intent. Before long there was a long, sickening screech of terror and a gut-wrenching BAM!
Hawk guy chuckled merrily and stepped out of his V8 to see what he had cooked for tea.
“Aw shit.” There, before his strong beak and beady eyes Hawk guy found a disaster. He’d dented the front of his most prized possession. It was very difficult for a large, hunting bird to get repairs done on his automobile and this would be no easy fix. Also, he’d hit a human. A stupid, jogging human. Human flesh had always made Hawk guy gag so this guy would be no good for eating, just another mess to clean up.
Hawk guy sighed, pathetically, and began to roll the man to the side of the road.
All of a sudden, a copper on a bicycle came upon the Hawk guy and the wreckage of man and car. He got on his portable two-way immediately and within seconds backup had arrived.
Hawk guy was handcuffed, locked away and, because of new hoon laws and old manslaughter laws, despite the best efforts of the Animal Rights Protection Agency, his key was thrown away.
Hawk guy died in captivity eight years later.
Oh my, oh my, OhGreatStoryTeller!!! Kind of sad in a way, but fairly typical of hawks, they have no concern or care for anyone other than themselves. Now if it had have been a magpie, I'm sure he would have cared for and disposed of the human good and proper. And just imagine what could have happened if it was a BAT !!!!!!
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