Chapter 10

10 That Evening Can I just say how annoying was that Selentrus vastanavius the what's-His- Face? Who invites themself over for a party? So annoying. It would be like if we just turned up and then tried to kick someone out of their house so we could take all their food.

Isn't that what we did to Mean Cat? Parrots are such catbrains, I'm so glad we're pigeons. The sky grew darker as the evening sun disappeared into the night. The Human Lady still hadn't returned. Me and Dave sat on the porch by the cat flap, kicking tiny stones to each other. 'Dave, we can't let those birds in our house,' I said, breaking the silence. Dave stared hard at the ground. 'I don't think we have much of a choice. He got up and brushed off his feathers. 'Besides, it might be quite fun to have a party.

We are heroes after all.' 'You think this is a good idea?' 'Yes, Skipper,' Dave said. 'I've thought about it and now it makes sense. We should celebrate that we got rid of Mean Cat.' 'What about the Human Lady?' I asked. 'She might not like all these birds in her house.' 'When she comes back, we'll hide in the shed. That way she'll blame the other birds but still love us.' The more Dave spoke about the party, the more convinced I became. We were probably the first birds in the history of birds ever to defeat a cat. We were heroes. These birds wanted to celebrate us. With us. Ever since that goose ran off with our

croissant, me and Dave had always felt a bit on the outside. It was nice to finally be respected for all the things we had done. 'We could throw the most epic party ever,' I said, jumping to my feet. 'Exactly!' Dave hooted. 'Well be bird legends.' We spent the next hour laying out the biscuits we weren't really that keen on and hiding the biscuits with jam in the middle in a fancy tin we found at the back of a cupboard. We pre-crunched the breadsticks and flattened the bread rolls just the way all birds like them. We even found some old pizza crusts in the bin to decorate the kitchen floor.

I felt jittery, excited and nervous. Dave was pacing, poking his head out of the cat flap every two minutes, checking for our guests. 'I see something,' he cooed, his eyes wide and twinkling. We stepped out of the cat flap into the garden. There, high in the darkening sky, was a V-shape of birds soaring towards us. As they came closer we could make out Selentrus Vastanavius the Fifth, bright and green, leading hundreds of birds to our party. He swooped down and landed by the cat flap.

The blue capped chaffinch stepped forward. 'Pip-pip-pip-pip-pip-pip-pip-pip! Introducing Selentrus Vastanavius the Fifth. Leader of the Macaw Elite, Local Zoo Branch.' 'Good evening, Dave,' Selentrus Vastanavius the Fifth said, stepping forwards. 'And Other Pigeon.' 'Actually it's Skipper,' I said back. The garden filled with feathers and squawking as birds landed over the lawn, squeezing into any spare space, balancing on the washing line and pecking at the cushionless deckchair.