Kill Two Ibis With One Stone!

Dear Ibis,

Many may not be aware of this, but you are the official international bird of Sydney. As a resident of this area, I come in contact with you far too often and I have a few bones to pick over with you.

The first bone is why are you even here? How did you get here? I have consulted with the oracle and she told me that you are actually a native of Australia. And that your sister is the African Sacred Ibis. Logic fails me.

According to the internets, I am not the only one who thinks of you as a ‘bin chicken’, ‘dump chook’ or a ‘tip turkey’. You are despised the web over and this pleases me, however I have more personal grievances with you. For example, the fact that you insist upon joining me for every meal that I have outside. I have a tale from childhood that I would like to recount.

I was six or seven and had just enjoyed a magical day peering at animals in cages at Taronga Zoo. I had had the small but terrifying experience of getting my head stuck between the bars of the kangaroo enclosure and my mother excitedly telling me that they were dangerous before assisting her screaming son’s escape. I had also watched, wide-eyed with fear as a pack of spider monkeys stalked, caught and tore apart a lonely sparrow that had ventured into their cage. I was a little fragile but my mother had bought me some hot chips and dragged out the buttered bread so I could make myself a carb-loaded sandwich. I was happily doing this when one of you horrific avian specimens appeared out of nowhere, grabbed my entire packet of hot chips and knocked it to the ground, where you squawkingly devoured them.

Understandably, considering the day I had experienced, I burst into tears. My mother, stoic leader that she is, refused to buy more hot chips for me and forced me to eat my butter sandwich instead. I can only assume that she was hoping I might learn from this survival of the fittest routine however at the time it was utterly soul destroying.

Do I blame my mother for this zoo experience? No. I blame you, Ibis. Clearly you are at fault.

As I have aged, I have found more reasons to despise you. You smell like all the homeless people in Sydney bathed in the same water, condensed the remaining muck into a perfume and injected it into your sweat glands. I can actually smell you before I can see you and this sickens me more than anything else in the entire world. It is rare to cultivate a stench that actually provokes a physical reaction but you have done this Ibis, and every time I smell you, I vomit into my mouth a little.

You have a disgusting red flap of bare skin underneath each wing and tiny shrunken naked heads which makes you seem like zombie birds. Zombies are terrifying and so are you.

If this were the zombocalypse, and it will be soon, I would target you first. With all strictures of society gone, I would be free to shoot, stab and tear you apart to my heart’s content. Yes, this would reduce me to precisely your level but everyone will be dead and no one will judge me! So watch out Ibis, because when the first zombie strikes, I’m shucking on my gauntlet and coming for you!

Adrik