Stool Pigeon

This is a Sunday Photofiction submission for 16th August 2015. Thanks to Al Forbes  for the prompt.

-I’ve been thinking about it, right?

-About what?

-About the sparrow.

-What sparrow?

-Him with the bow and arrow.

-The one what killed Cock Robin?

-That’s it. But…what if he didn’t?

-If he didn’t?

-Exactly. What if he were a patsy?

-A patsy?

-That’s right.

-But…he confessed, didn’t he?

-That don’t mean he did it.

-Doesn’t it?

-You never heard of a false confession?

-But there were witnesses.

-The fly?

-A fly’s got 6,000 eyes, hasn’t it? He’s bound to have seen something.

-Maybe. But are you really going to let a sparrow’s freedom rest on the word of someone who lives on excrement?

-But it wasn’t just that, was it?

-What else then?

-There was a murder weapon.

-A bow and arrow?


-Whoever heard of a sparrow with a bow and arrow? I mean, how’d he pull back the string?

-I don’t know. With his little beak, maybe?

-Nah. It just doesn’t sit right.

-It might if he steadied the arrowshaft with his wing.

-I mean the official version of events. There’s no substance to it. 

-Hang on…

-Hang on?

-Is this going to be like Humpty Dumpty again?

-What do you mean?

-When you said it were a set-up.

-It was.

-No it wasn’t.

-Come on. If you’ve got a giant egg with cranial injuries, you’re not going to send in a bunch of equerries, are you?

-You’re not?

-Nah. You’d want a trauma surgeon.

-I suppose…

-Or at the very least, a competent soufflé chef.

-You’ve haven’t been at the mouldy bread again, have you?

-You just don’t want to see the bigger picture.

-Fair enough. So, who d’you fancy for this Cock Robin, then?

-Well…the Dove always struck me as overegging the pudding grief-wise.

-But she’d lost the love of her life.

-Or had she?

-What do you mean?

-A Columbiform bird like that’d get sick of a Passeriform in the end. Maybe love’s young dream had flown the coop.

-…I don’t know.

-Or what about the owl?

-What about him?

-He seemed awfully keen to get the body buried, didn’t he? …And then there’s the lark.

-The lark?

-Refusing to officiate at the funeral if it was after dark. Have you ever been to a funeral after dark?

-Maybe it’s cheaper, then.

-Or maybe he was trying to fake a case of nyctophobia so no one’d suspect him of slipping out after midnight to do the deed.



-Well, if it isn’t the sparrow, it’s got to be the fish, hasn’t it?

-The fish?

-Caught Cock Robin’s blood in a little dish, didn’t he?


-So, don’t they say serial killers like to keep trophies?

-Rubbish. You’ll be telling me Georgie Porgie was innocent next.



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11 responses to “Stool Pigeon

  1. I love your dialog. I’m chuckling. The birds photo didn’t inspire me this week.
    I left a “quirky” review on Amazon for Rose Tinted Rifle Sites. I liked it.

    • Thanks for reading, and for the review. Glad you liked it. I’d never come across Christopher Moore before but I’m intrigued. Is there a particular book you’d recommend for me to take on holiday?
      incidentally, do you mind if I republish your review on Twitter or similar?
      Thanks again

      • You’re welcome and I don’t mind. I posted it under Lakeviews on Amazon. I confess, my husband has read all of Christopher Moore’s books so I know about them. I read Sacre Bleu set in Montmartre Paris during the Belle Epoch. I quite enjoyed it. Enjoy your holiday.

  2. Hahaha! That gave me a good chuckle. I couldn’t figure out where you were going with it. Then I realized, the guy thinks everyone is guilty! LOL

  3. Entertaining stuff, well done.

  4. Love it! Great story. ( Yes, I do believe that a fly with 6,000 eyes just might see something!) 🙂

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