THE SEAGULL GETS ONE PHONE CALL

Shelly and I are good friends, so she will forgive me for immortalizing her in this way. I hope.
A couple of years ago, we were out and 'aboot' in Vancouver doing a little shopping. Minding our own business looking at shoes and bitching about things, you know, girl stuff, when it happened. PLOP.
Just as we left one shoe store to walk into another shoe store...one tree and a seagull with the shits and expert marksmanship changed everything.
PLOP.
"I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or throw up" Shelly said quietly. The bomb hit her directly in the eye. Somehow the maniacal bird had managed to miss her glasses completely, and send a yellowish brown blob the size of a fried egg oozing from eyebrow to cheek.
Ever the quick thinking girl on the go, I ran for the nearest Burger King for napkins, leaving poor Shellswick to try to ignore the street musician with the guitar case full of change trying to engage her in conversation about the large turd on her face. As I returned with napkins to help her clean up and put some Visine in her eye, the street musician guy assured us he "saw the bird that did it" as if we were going to need him to identify it in a police line up later.
Shopping is not to be kept waiting. Not even by temporary poop-blindness, so ahead we forged, and the Legend of the Bird was already news.
Two women talking to each other in the shoe store, obviously not aware we were standing next to them: "Did you see that? Her friend just ran away from her after that bird pooped on her, why would someone just run away like that?"
Canadians will tell the story of 'The Bird and the Girl With the Grotty Eye Who's Friend Ran Away From Her' for years, but it always ends the same. The girl cleaned off her eye, went home and roasted a large chicken for dinner. THE END.