Chapter 4

4 Skipper Doesn't Listen and Starts a MASSIVE Argument Wait, Skipper! Can I do this title? Don't type that! That's obviously not the title of this chapter, is it? Give me the typewriter. GIVE, ME. THE. TYPEWRITER.

I did not start an argument. You did. Didn't. See? You're doing it again. Read this next bit and see for yourself who started the argument. Reginald Grimster's words rang in my ears. I escaped down the stairs before he could spot me. A fat one and a skinny one? Was he talking about Dave and me? I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. It had been almost a day

without any croissants or biscuits with the jammy bit in the middle. I suppose I did look a little skinnier than usual. Well, I'm not the fat one. This is all muscle and feathers. I swooped back through to the dining room and to the cupboard Reginald Grimster hadn't let me look at. High on the top shelf was a row of shiny silver keys. Beneath, stacked on two shelves, was cookbook after cookbook. Short ones, crumpled ones, leathery ones, ones

with bookmarks poking out of the top, and one that was held together with sticky tape and staples. I fluttered close to the bottom shelf and squinted to read the titles in the shadows: How to Fatten Up a Bird; How to Pluck a Bird; How to Roast a Bird; How to Make Nuggets from Any Bird You Find- and I Mean Any Bird, Like, Even a Bird You Lure into Your Garden with Breadcrumbs; How to Make Ice Cream (To Eat After Your Nuggets).

'Dave!' I shrieked. 'Get in here!' 'I'm sleeping...' Dave's coo came back. 'Get in here NOW!' A drowsy but cheerful Dave dragged his bulging belly through to the dining room. 'Why did you wake me up?' 'Dave, we need to get out of here.' 'Don't be ridiculous,' Dave snapped. 'I know it's not croissants and chocolate digestives but have you seen how much pigeontastic birdseed there is? And it's all ours!' Dave shook his head and started to turn back towards the feed room. 'Look at all these cookbooks!' I squawked at him. Dave glanced up. 'So he's interested in cooking. Maybe he's a chef. What's wrong

with that?' 'Don't you see a common theme?' 'Cooking?' 'Cooking what?' I said, pointing at every spine. Each had the word "Bird" on it. 'Cooking... books?' 'Dave!' My feathers were trembling. I slammed my wing down on the shelf. 'I think something very bad is going to happen to us. I think Reginald Grimster is going to turn us into pigeon nuggets. I heard him say so on the telephone!' 'Skipper, you're upset about the Human Lady. I understand. But you can't go around making things up. 'I'm. Not.' I glared at Dave. 'We need to get out of here. The Human Man is dangerous.'