My Roommate Is a Pigeon and He Owes Me Rent

So I live in a cheap apartment. Like, really cheap. The kind where the door is optional and the bathroom lights flicker like a horror movie. But hey, rent is rent.

One day I leave the window open, and a pigeon flies in. Doesn’t leave. Just sits on the couch like he pays bills.

Day 1: I yell, “Shoo!” He stares at me like I’m the intruder.
Day 2: He’s still there, watching Netflix. My account.
Day 3: He eats my chips and leaves crumbs everywhere. I confront him.
He coos. Passive-aggressive.

So I name him Dave.

Now Dave thinks we’re roommates. He poops near the Wi-Fi router. ON PURPOSE.
When I ask for rent, he flaps his wings like,
“The economy’s tough, bro.”

I try to kick him out. He invites three more pigeons.
Suddenly it’s a co-op.
They throw a party. One brings his girlfriend. I walk in, and they’re making out on my toaster.

I call animal control.
They arrive.
They see Dave.
They salute.

“Sir,” the officer whispers, “this bird’s got connections.”
I say, “WHAT connections?!”
They just drop a card that says:
‘Pigeon Syndicate. Est. 1842. Loyalty. Poop. Revenge.’

Now I sleep on the floor while Dave has the bed. He even set up a pigeon-only router called BirdFi. Password: “COO1234”.

And last night?

He ordered pizza. With MY CARD.

The delivery guy said, “You the one with the angry bird roommate?”
I said, “Yeah.”
He just nodded and said, “Good luck.”