Chapter 11

11 It's Raining Pigeons 'What are you doing?!' the Human Men shouted, horrified. 'Reginald Grimster is going to make pigeon nuggets.' 'You can't mince a pigeon in here!' the bald Man bellowed. 'What's wrong with you, Shoulder Poo?!' Reginald Grimster's eyes narrowed. 'Reginald Grimster has come to make pigeon nuggets, and Reginald Grimster WILL MAKE pigeon nuggets.' He pressed the huge red button.

Dave screamed as the Pigeon Nugget Maker whirred into life. A plunger started to move up and down inside as the blades at the base of the machine began to slice faster and faster. 'Skipper, help me!' Dave shrieked. 'I'm coming!' I squawked down. I pecked at the foam tile as hard as I could, but it was too thick. I scraped with my claws and stabbed at the floor beneath me, trying to get into the room. The bald Man sprang out of his seat and clambered across the desk, grabbing for the machine. 'Oh no you don't!' 'Your Medal of the Brave, Dave!' I screamed down. 'Throw your medal!' Dave flung the shiny bottle top off his

chest. Time seemed to slow as we both watched the medal tumble through the air towards the open top of the machine. It hit the rim and bounced across to the other side before circling like a gobstopper on a basketball hoop. For a moment, the medal stood still. And then it fell in. The Pigeon Nugget Maker started to shake as the bald Man and Reginald Grimster, still grasping Dave tight, battled for it. The whirring and the chomping grew louder and louder. Smoke spilled out of the top as the machine was rammed back and forth between the fighting Humans. Dave was squashed against the machine, bashing at Reginald Grimster, trying to

scratch and claw himself free from the Human's grip. The blades stopped suddenly as the contraption jerked to a halt- and the smell of molten metal poured out of the Nugget Maker. Reginald Grimster pushed the bald Man away as he hugged his beloved machine and let out a cry. Dave stumbled to an empty space on the desk as Reginald Grimster started to fiddle with the levers and dials. Crack. 'What's that cracking sound?' I squawked, trying to get a better view of Dave. Pigeons shoved forwards, pushing against me as we all tried to peer out of the tiny hole.

Craaack. 'That!' I said. 'What is that?' 'It wasn't me this time,' Swan said. 'Hold on,' Fienne crowed at the pigeons gathering upon us. 'If too many of you come at once, we'll all collapse right through the ceiling- Crrrraaaaaaaack! 'Too late!' The foam tile split and we all tumbled through the hole and into the glass room. 'What on Earth!' the Human Men screamed. Pigeons rained through the ceiling, bouncing off the table and the walls and the floor. Feathers flew and claws scraped at

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