The most elusive organized crime family in New York City was found deliberating on campus last week.

In the long, winding staircase of Havemeyer Hall, one might chance upon an encounter of birds outside the window. To the undiscerning eye, it is a simple congregation of pigeons. It’s unassuming, nothing more. However, to the true observer of the world—or the crazed mind of an exhausted chemistry student—the scene is, in fact, something more. Perhaps the pigeons are privately planning, planning something big.

[Meeting Commenced at 15:02]

Flockster*: “Coo coo.” “He’s not here.” 

*[Pigeon Mafia Term: Pigeon mobster.]

Coombah*: “Coo.” “I know.” 

*[Pigeon Mafia Term: Pigeon goombah.]

Flockster: “Coo coo cooooo.” “That’s gonna be a problem.”

Coombah: “Coo cooo.” “You’re telling me.”

Flockster: “Coo coo coooo coo coo coo coo.” “He was carrying a couple’a Gs of G* with him.” 

*[Pigeon Mafia Term: Grands of Grain.]

Coombah: “Coo.” “I know.”

Flockster: “Coo coo coo.” “Don’t tell the don.”

Coombah: “Coo coo coo cooooo? Coo coo coo coo coo, coooooo coo coo coo coo coo.” “You stupid or something? I’m not crossing the bridge anytime soon, ‘specially not to cover for a sky rat like him.”

Flockster: “Coo coo coo?” “Whadywe tell the others?”

Coombah: “Coo.” “Nothin’.”

Flockster: “Coo.” “But–”

Coombah: “Cooooooo.” “Fuggedaboutit.” 

Coombah: [He picks up a cigarette resting on the ledge with his beak. He takes a drag.]

Coombah: “Cooo, coo coo coo coo coo coo.” “Y’know, the crew in the corner been too quiet.” 

Flockster: “Coo coo coo coo coo.” “I don’t think nothin’ of it.” 

Coombah: [He stares at the Flockster, peering into his hardened Pigeon soul. He remembers when the Flockster was a little boy, his initiation journey, and everything in between.]

Coombah: “Coo coo coo coo coo coo.” “You know better than to lie to me.”

Flockster: “Coo.” “I’m not.”

Coombah: “Coo coo coo coo coo.” “The books are open* for you, kid.” 

*[Pigeon Mafia Term: Possibility for Promotion.]

Flockster: [Nods.]

Coombah: “Coo coo coo coo coo coo coo coo.” “I don’t want to hear nothing about no birds eating alone*.” 

*[Pigeon Mafia Term: Keeping spoils to oneself.]

Flockster: [Nods.]

Coombah: “ Coo coo coo coo coo coo cooo. Coo coo coo coo coo coo coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo coo. Coo coo coo coo coo. Coo.” “And don’t say I didn’t warn ya if you get caught up in their mess. They’re nothin’ but park pigeons looking for some chaos. They’re all soft. You’re a street pigeon.  You know how the flock works. Act like it.”

Flockster: [Nods.]

Coombah: “Coo, coo coo.” “Squawk, I want words.”

Flockster: “Coo.” “I hear ya.”

Coombah: “Coo.” “Good.”

Coombah: [He debates whether to continue. He turns his head and looks beyond the group Park Pigeons, noticing the Czoo* waiting. The Czoo is wearing a trench coat.] 

*[Pigeon Mafia Term: A Pigeon Zu. An affectionate address to a senior member of the flock]

Coombah: “Coo coo coo coo coo?” “How long has he been waiting?”

Flockster: “Coo coo.” “Think he landed a few minutes ago.”

Coombah: “Coo coo?” “And ya didn’t tell me?”

Flockster: “Coo.” “Sorry.”

Coombah: [He scoffs at the apology. Flockster is making him seem unobservant and as if he ignored the Czoo. This is bad, especially because the Czoo is friendly with the Don.]

Coombah: “Coo, coo coo coo?” “Czoo, how are you?”

Czoo: [He turns his head and flies over the Coombah.]

Coombah: “Coo coo?” “Want a light?”

Czoo: [He shakes his head. He’s indifferent.]

Coombah: [He hops over to grab another half-smoked cigarette tossed out by a Chemistry grad student. He strikes it along the floor to relight it, passing it to the Czoo’s beak.]

Czoo: [He takes a long drag. He lets out a squawking cough.]

Czoo: “Coo coooo coo coo cooo coo.” “My coomare’s* been driving me nuts.” 

*[Pigeon Mafia Term: A Pigeon comare; a mob mistress.] 

Coombah and Flockster: [Both laugh, somewhat disingenuously because you can’t disrespect a Czoo. That’s bad form.]

Czoo: “Coo coo coo coo. Coo coo coo co cooooo. Coo coo ‘coo coo coo coo coo coo coooo coo?’ Coo coo.” “Absolutely crazy. Daughter wants to go to coollege.* I say ‘Why not marry a nice boy in our Coosa Nostra**?’ She won’t budge.” 

*[Pigeon Society Term: Pigeon College, perhaps Coolumbia or Birdnard.]
**[Pigeon Mafia Term: A Pigeon Cosa Nostra; the Pigeon mob family.]

Coombah: “Coo coo!” “You know how women are!”

Coombah, Flockster, Czoo: [All laugh in a classic ball-in-chain type of humor way.]

Czoo: “Coo coo coo coo coo. Coo coo coo coooo coo coo coo coo cooo.” “I’ve been living in a cuckoo’s nest. Doesn’t help that flock’s latest featherbedding* project’s been hitting roadblocks.” 

*[Pigeon Mafia Term: The practice of assigning more union workers to a project than necessary.]

Coombah: “Coo coo coo coo cooo? “Have you asked up the coonestsigliere*?” 

*[Pigeon Mafia Term: Pigeon consigliere; the family advisor, who is always consulted before decisions are made.]

Czoo: “Coo. Coo coo coo coo coo.” “Eh. He’s been off dealing with other nest business.”

Coombah: “Coo.” “Makes sense.”

Czoo: [He finishes the cigarette.]

Flockster: “Coo?” “Like what?” 

Coombah: [He shoots the Flockster the feathery eye. Why would he ask such an invasive question?]

Czoo: [Chuckles.]

Czoo: “Coo coo?” “Who’s this hatchling?”

Coombah: “Coo coo coo.” “He’s part of the nest.”

Czoo: “ Coo coo coo coo coo coo coo, coo.” “Don’t ask questions you’re not privy to, kid.”

Coombah: “Coo coo coo coo, coo coo coo coo coo coo coo.” “You might as well tell him, he’s gonna see hear about the cement talons* soon enough.”

*[Pigeon Mafia Term: Pigeon Cement Shoes: a method of murder or body disposal. It involves weighing down the victim, who may be dead or alive, with concrete and throwing them into water in the hope the body will never be found.]

Czoo: “Coo coo coo coo coo coo coo coo coo.” “Underboss thinks some associates have been laundering some dough for themselves.”

Coombah: [Whistles.]

Czoo: “Coo coo coo coo coo coo. Coo coo coo coo coo coo. Coo coo.” “They’ll probably get hit tomorrow night. We gotta sit down with them then. Good riddance.”

Czoo: [He spits on the ground.]

Czoo: “Coo. Coo coo coo coo coo coo. Coo coo. Coo coo coo coo, coo.” “Anyway. I think you’ve been here long enough. Little too public. Think about that next time, Coombah.”

Coombah: [Nods.]

Czoo: “Coo coo.” “Buonanotte.”

All Birds: [They disperse, untrackable.]

[Meeting Ends at 15:35]

Pigeon Mafia Meeting via Author