Demented Doves

Once upon a time there was a demented dove looking for something nasty to do. He could get away with murder not only because he was pure white, but because he was the mislabeled epitome of peace. The dove saw an old lady sitting down at a bus stop going through her purse. He swooped down and snatched a credit card out of her hand without her even realizing it. "Ah," he squawked, "Now I can buy a Cadillac. If I buy a Cadillac, everyone will think I'm important."

He swooped into a Cadillac showroom and started haggling on a sporty convertible. "I'll buy this one..." The salesman asked him how he'd like to pay. "Why by credit card of course!" With this the dove brandished a platinum card, which caught the light as he flashed it in the air.

The salesman completed the paperwork and asked the dove to sign the credit slip. The dove balked because he couldn't hold a pen with his wing. The real truth of it all was that he'd never learned to write since he never went to school. The salesmen went into the back room and called the police.

Soon the police and the manager entered the room. The dove looked at the salesman, the salesman looked at his boss, the boss looked at the cop, the cop looked at the ceiling, the ceiling looked at the floor, and the floor looked at the door. In flew in the dove's wife, with a wheelbarrow full of bills in her beak.

With some quick detective work the cop deduced Mrs. Dove had stolen the money from an old man who was taking the cash he had stashed in his mattress to the bank. Mrs. Dove had stolen it all at one fell swoop.

The cop was pulling out his handcuffs. He looked at the boss. The boss looked at the salesman, the salesman looked at Mr. Dove, and Mr. Dove looked at the ceiling. The ceiling looked at the floor, the floor looked at the door. And in walked the son of Mr. Dove. The son of Mr. Dove said, "Wait! I can pay for the misdeed," and pulled out a checkbook to pay for the car. The son of Mr. Dove had studied to be a Doctor, and could buy as many Cadillacs as his little heart desired.

© 1995 Stefan des Lauriers