Heron crouched behind the stack of wooden

Heron crouched behind the stack of wooden crates and tried to focus on the scene just ahead of her. It was hard to concentrate with all the gunfire going on, but she knew this was

going to turn out badly. Heron hadn't been spotted yet, and she didn't know what was going to happen when she was. The only thing she would be able to do was run, but before she co

"Say, Heron! How did you get here so soon?" "BBbbwWwaAAAAaaacCCKKk!" "Well quite, old chap. Cup of tea? Coffee? Maybe a wisky? I think we've got some

birdfeeders out back if you're interested." The Heron started to peck at his host's dinner jacket quite impertinintly, but he pretended not to notice as he went to put the kettle

on. "Would anybody like a tea?" the gracious host offered. The heron squawked right in his ear, but the only sign he'd heard the noise was a slight wince.

The heron's rudeness was noted by all others in attendance. The host tried to make light of the faux pas, but by then it was too late: the heron must die. An executioner was hired

who gave them funeral discounts because of the repeat business. They were right behind the State of Texas in that. The heron deftly handled the executioner. She sent him back at th

-e crack of dawn after he had been thoroughly wrung dry. "You look like you ben rode hard and put away wet," said his wife as he stumbled through the door. "It's my heron addiction

" Sure enough, a goliath heron entered the house, followed by a group of egrets. To his wife's horror, even her bed gradually overfilled with birds. She died a victim of fowl play.