My Joyous Murdering Day

Keith is sitting in a bed of greenery in a shady forest, quiet as a mouse, still as a statue, hot as a turned on oven. A pretty little wren swept into his vision, a flash of colour. Settling on a small twig, a slight bounce noticeable only through the lens of Keith's binoculars as he focuses in on the bird. Twitching it's head, its eyes hone in on him. They are cold, soulless black dots that instil despair. They share this moment for a second, the world around them darkening.

Then with a snap of a tree a quad bike comes flying through the forest and splat goes the wren. Blood smears across the riders face as the little bird guts spill out of the exploded ball of feathers. The rider falls to the ground hard, the bird had hit his face like a cannonball, a king hit from nature. His quad bike flying into the tree, catching fire. Keith sits there in shock, unable to comprehend what actually happened. He begins to stand up slowly so to find a new bird watching spot, but suddenly a rare pigeon lands on the face of the rider, picking off pieces of intestine and bird brain. Mesmerised by the elegance of the cannibal bird Keith sits back down and assumes his original position.

Then with a loud bang and a crack the quad bike explodes and the tree starts to fall. Splat goes the pigeon and the rider. If he wasn't dead before then he definitely is now. It took longer for Keith to get out a state of shock, but once the blood started to trickle into his shoes he stood up and ran. No more bird watching for today.

Now all hot and bothered, breathing heavily like an old man after sex, Keith sits down on the beach. Upon sitting down on the dune, a seagull comes waddling up, another set of cold soulless eyes set their sights on him. Craving food, the seagull starts to pick at Keith's clothes. "Give me food", it seemed to say, "I want food". About to pull out a cracker from his jacket pocket, something catches his eye.

Then with a thump of a flipper a sea lion jumps on top of Keith and swallows the bird whole. Then a sniff of a whisker, it starts to chomp on the blood soaked foot of the unfortunate Keith. Kicking wildly he can feel the long sucking tongue wrap around his ankle. Yanking his foot as much as he can, Keith rips out the tongue and more blood gushes out over his now bare foot. Flopping to the side the sea lion cries out in pain and takes its last breaths.

Standing up, limping towards the water he leaves a trail of blood and saliva in the sand. Placing his foot into the ocean, that is as cold as the freezer containing ice babies, he starts to clean his foot. A little penguin comes up to join him in his cleaning. This time the bird's eyes were warm, fuzzy and gentle. It stood quietly, watching the blood seep out into the ocean.

Snap, crackle and pop. The sharks teeth went snap, the bones of the penguin crackled, and the warm eyes went pop as they exploded from its skull. Keith leaped back and sprinted home. Sat on his couch and turned on the nature channel.

"Well what a delightful day"