Angry Birds at Lightwater Valley
“my splenetic siblings being flung from catapults.”
A. Bird writes a ballistic review.
I’ve had enough. I can’t take it any more.
Those pigs will be the death of me, and my family, and my friends. The porcine fiends will have their comeuppance, I’ll see to that. I’ll burst their pigskins all over the land. We’ll get our eggs back and take as many of the filthy mud-bathers with us as we can. I have a spleen to vent, and it’s heading for those trotters.
I’m cross, narked, upset, put out, enraged, furious, chafed, riled, fuming, raging, irascible or just plain mad.
I’m angry. I’m a bird. I’m an Angry Bird! I’m at Lightwater Valley and they’ve made my strife a play ground. How very rude.
Everywhere I look, there are human chicks laughing, playing and cavorting on the buildings and stanchions much like the ones those blasted oinkers use; only these ones are stable and won’t fall down. How am I supposed to flatten the hateful little brats if everything is safe and sturdy? How dare they play while our eggs are in peril? Swings, slides, climbing frames and… What’s this?
Our own plight on a screen! A huge screen with my splenetic siblings being flung from catapults. They may be onto something there, but there’s no need to take pleasure from it.
Interactive games that make light of our noble cause and even indoor “fun” in case the weather is bad?
That’s it, I’m off to ruffle some feathers. I’m not going to stand for this. I’m going to work my way up the pecking order until I can find out who is responsible for this travesty. Look out Lightwater Valley, you’ve just made my list and I’m shutting you down before more people find out and come to enjoy themselves. Consider yourselves warned!