“A crossbow?” Pigeon asked.I left my battle-ax in my other jeans,” the man said.”

“So you’re the Pigeon, huh?”“No,” I snapped. “I have a name.”He seemed amused at the way I regarded him, which only served to make me angrier.“Well? What is it?” he asked.I took a bite of the last apple spear on my plate, ignoring him.“Pigeon it is, then,” he shrugged.”

“You like Pigeon,” he said defensively. “It’s a dove, an attractive girl, a winning card in poker, take your pick. You’re my Pigeon.”

“She sat one of the fluffy cats in my lap and stuffed the other down my shirt. She turned and left.'There,' said the large man. 'The kittens will make your sad go away.”

“Abs? What are you, a workout video?" he sneered. "Pigeon?" I said with the same amount of disdain. "An annoying bird that craps all over the sidewalk?""You like Pigeon," he said defensively. "It's a dove, an attractive girl, a winning card in poker, take your pick. You're my Pigeon.”

“PIGEON MY ARSE!”