A short play by SB:

Chris: Pigeon, what are you doing up in that tree?
Pigeon: I'm a real bird in a real tree.
Chris: A pigeon that talks? Let me take some digi pics.
Pigeon: Hey, I just told you I'm not a pigeon.
Chris: You are a liar. I don't care what color your feathers are.
Pigeon: I'm mimicking a pigeon for kicks. Like how you pretend to be straight.
Chris: After I take your picture, I'm going to feed you to a toddler.
Pigeon: The one in the plaid sundress?
Chris: That's right. Hold still, pigeon, I'm trying to get a captivating shot
to put up on my blodge. It's going to be an existential piece called:
Pigeon Right Before Death, or That's Right I Said Pigeon!
Pigeon: If I had teeth I'd bite your face.
Chris: Oooo, I'm so scared. If I had arms I'd knock you off that branch.
Oh wait, look. I DO have arms....