Scene opens in a classroom with a number of people standing around coo-
ing. Each has a feather tucked behind each ear. Another person enters,
wearing an Air Force type hat and holding a clipboard. This person takes
the podium and flaps his wings:

Commander: (flapping his wings and banging one elbow against the
podium) All right, all right. Lets get started.

(The rest take their seats)

Commander: Id like to say that in all my years as a commander in the
US Pigeon Air Force, this mornings exercise was the
lamest bombing run I have ever seen. Aerial
reconnaissance shows that only twenty-five percent of the
statue was covered.

Pigeon #1: But sir, there were trees over the target!

Commander: It was a statue, captain... a stationary target!

Pigeon #2: But the wind...

Commander: (hitting the podium with one wing) I wont hear it. You
are trained pilots. Trained to succeed in spite of wind,
rain, snow, sleet and low-flying golf balls. You are
supposed to be the finest, most accurate flying weapons on
Gods green earth... er, airspace.

(Pigeons look at each other and coo in agreement)

Commander: And you... (points to one pigeon with his elbow) failed to
hit the target on three consecutive runs.

Pigeon #3: I hit his foot, sir.

(Pigeons look at Pigeon #3 and all Coo in a quizzical, incredulous tone.)

Commander: His foot? His foot?!? What are you, some sort of dove?

(Pigeon #3 breaks down and cries as the others console him/her. Another
pigeon enters, salutes, and presents his/her leg.)

Commander: (rolls up the pants leg of the newly arrived pigeon,
removes a canister, opens it, and unfurls a message.)
Pilot, you may get a chance to redeem yourself yet. I
have great news from the allied command: we hit live
targets tomorrow.

(All pigeons cheer and coo)

Pigeon #1: What is it, sir? What is the mission?

Commander: Tomorrow, my friends and copilots, we have a rendezvous
with destiny... Tomorrow we hit: the annual Church
picnic.

(All pigeons stand, cheer, slap each other on the back, do high fives and
coo)

Commander: (rapping the podium with his elbow) All right, order.
Back to your seats.

(They all sit and lean forward with rapt attention)

Commander: Ok. Lets go over the scoring system again. Points will
be awarded as follows: One point for a basic hit on any
part of the body. Hats do not count. Extra points will
be awarded for shots on bald spots and other open skin.
Eyes and other open orifices count double. Spatter to
adjoining targets will also count an extra point.

Pigeon #2: Will the usual three points be in effect for nude
sunbathers?

Commander: Of course, although not likely on this run. Additional
multipliers will be awarded for hitting spritely targets.

Pigeon #3: Such as children.

Commander: No. Although they are the most mobile, they think its
cool, so they dont count extra.

Pigeon #1: So, let me get this straight: The ideal target would move
about in the crowd, have a bald spot, be tall for spatter
enhancement and should often look skyward. That means
that...

Commander: Thats right. The ideal target is Billy Graham.

All: Whoa! Coo, coo.

Commander: Well, thats it. We hit the runway at dawn. Catch some
shut-eye and good hunting.

All: (more back-slapping and coo-cooing.)
LIGHTS