A few weeks ago a friend of mine appeared on the electric television (for about the length of time it takes a rhea to cross a road) having been witness to a rhea roaming the Hertfordshire countryside.
The Torygraph and other worthy tomes today report that it has been shot. The rhea, that is, not my friend – he remains cheerfully bullet-free, despite the best efforts of the Establishment.
The dangerous animal (again, I allude to the bird, not my friend) was shot by a gamekeeper. There is no irony in the job title being in direct conflict with the job description. A local golfer is quoted as saying “It’s sad that someone had to shoot it, but if it was a traffic hazard, I understand that.”
My niece pointed out that “traffic hazards” are not exclusively avian. If there is a need to rid the world of potential traffic hazards then it is incumbent on me to join the kill. I will be arming myself like Rambo and setting of in pursuit of them. I believe I shall start with Hertfordshire golfers, whose ridiculous clothing can distract motorists, whose badly directed golf balls can easily unseat motor cyclists and whose ridiculous opinions can cause car drivers (me) to such excesses of rage that they lose all notion of highway etiquette.
It is perhaps a cruel thing to do, but I am not one to shirk my duty. I will attempt to be humane in the execution and leave the bodies neatly piled in bunkers so that they can be easily covered over.
If you can let me have a list of other potential traffic hazards, I will develop a schedule on my free weekends.
* For the benefit of Abe, the CIA analyst who has been tasked with monitoring my net activities (Hi, Abe – how are Cynthia and the kids?), I should perhaps point out that this article is intending to be satirical. I am, as you know, a pinko, tree-hugging, commie, pacifist faggot, and the only dangerous weapon I shall be likely to wield today is my bread knife should I feel esurient of an evening and set about the organic, wholemeal loaf that I baked overnight in order to get outside some of it.