Detective Hollywood Ford in: The Great Seed Heist

Pippin Flightfeathers

Hali tapped her foot impatiently, the rhythmic beat a counterpoint to the clinking of plates and the murmur of conversation that filled The Roost. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, a tantalizing promise that only amplified her growing irritation.

Across the chipped red vinyl booth, a lone ant scrambled across a forgotten sugar packet. A far cry from the steaming cup of joe she'd craved. Hali scanned the diner, her gaze snagging on a pair of bright yellow sneakers sticking out from beneath the counter. They belonged to Pippin Flightfeathers, Gustav's newest (and admittedly, most clueless) employee.

Hali had been a loyal patron of The Roost for years. Gustav, (a gruff goose, known as the Seed Nazi around the city for his obsessiveness) knew her order by heart: a double espresso, strong enough to jumpstart a condor, and a blueberry muffin, still warm from the oven. Today, however, her usual breakfast routine was on hold thanks to Pippin's brand of "service."

She cleared her throat pointedly, the sound sharp enough to slice through the chatter. No response. Hali sighed, a low rumble in her chest. This was ridiculous.

"Excuse me, yellow-feathered fellow!" she called out, her voice laced with a sweetness that barely masked her mounting frustration.

Pippin, head buried in a crumpled order pad, looked up with a startled squawk. A grin, wider than necessary, stretched across his face. "Hi there! Can I interest you in... uh... something from the menu perhaps?"

Hali resisted the urge to quack in exasperation. "Perhaps," she said, enunciating each word carefully, "you could interest me in the cup of coffee I ordered ten minutes ago?"

A few minutes (which felt more like an eternity) later, Pippin returned, looking flustered and apologetic. The steaming mug of coffee he placed before Hali was a stark contrast to his shaky hands.

"I am so sorry about that," he sputtered, feathers ruffled with anxiety. "I'm a bit... new here, still figuring things out. And it's a busy morning, you know? And... oh, and Gustav's been teaching me some new pancake recipes... they're really complicated!" Each word tumbled out, a flurry of feathers and excuses.

Hali sipped her coffee, masking a frown. It was barely lukewarm. "Apology accepted," she said, her tone flat. Pigeon service, reliable as always – which is to say, not very. "Let's just say your skills are... developing."

A dejected look crossed Pippin's face. "I'm trying my best, honest!" he protested, eyes pleading. "I promise I'll get better, I just–"

Hali held up a wing, silencing him. She couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. The Roost was his first real job, and she remembered well the sting of feeling inadequate, out of her depth. Still, there was something to be said for a timely cup of coffee.

"Talent takes time, Pippin," she said, softening her voice slightly. "But diligence is a virtue too. Let's just hope your diligence kicks in before my patience flies away." She gestured towards the untouched cup of coffee. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a city to save from itself."

She rose, leaving a crumpled bill on the table, a mix of payment and unspoken challenge. As she walked out of The Roost, a flicker of a smile played on her beak. Pigeons might not be known for their speed or efficiency, but there was a spark in Pippin's eye, a determination that hinted at hidden depths. And who knew, perhaps, with a little luck and a lot of persistence, he might just surprise them all.