Blood Sacrifice

Some readers may find these images shocking, but I have decided to include them here because I feel the world should be made aware of the barbaric practices that are taking place under our very noses, not even a stone’s throw from Nelson Road. It is my duty to speak out, yea, though it may cost my very life…

For some time now I have been charting and recording evidence of disturbing rituals in an otherwise quiet corner of Devonport House garden, where, upon a makeshift altar of white-painted wood, various sacrificial victims are lain, naked and vulnerable, awaiting a grisly fate. It is no accident that this is a cemetery – and the sick individuals who perpetrate this assault on polite society know exactly what they are doing. Look at this poor cockatiel, for example, frozen rigid with fear, awaiting whatever diseased ‘entertainments’ its tormentors have in store.

Until now I have been unable to capture photographic evidence of this sickening practice,  horrific to decent citizens of the town, all the more so because it is a mere few steps to the gate leading onto Romney Road,  nestling into King William Walk. Tourists could see this, and yet it is something that no one mentions. It is swept under the table, the Cockatiel In The Room that no one will talk about. And I confess. I played my part too. By not revealing this to the world, admittedly through cowardice, I have been complicit in the mutilation and death of many an innocent plastic figure.

But no more. I will be the first to talk about the Brotherhood of the Parrot, whatever the cost to my own safety.

The Brotherhood of the Parrot has been growing in confidence over the past few years. Once reviled as a ‘crank cult’ it is now gaining credence beyond the gullible few and seeping its vile stench into otherwise rational society. Claiming high priests and priestesses from among Greenwich’s most respected citizens, it is tolerated even in the highest places because its members have infiltrated every rank of Greenwich society. I expect you have been wondering why such an altar, its majestic simplicity stark among the frippery of the town’s ancient artchitecture has been allowed to stay in Devonport House Garden – I can reveal that, even within the very grounds of the Old Royal Naval College, the Brotherhood has its followers.

Worshipping the ancient parrot deity ‘Joey’, the mission of these fanatics is to fill the trees of Greenwich with the Minions of Joey. I know you will have seen – and heard – these minions as they gather, in ever-increasing numbers, awaiting the Apocalypse, when Joey will take over Greenwich and the Age of the Parrots will begin. Humans will be annihilated; only by bending to Joey’s will and begging mercy now will the race survive, and even then as mere shadows of what they were. Cultists believe that when Joey reigns, they will be permitted to serve him and thus survive.

I will not describe here what will happen to this cockatiel. Children read this blog. I did not see who placed it, though a group of cloaked and hooded students have been seen hanging around the area in the small hours of the morning. Through my exhaustive research (despite the Brotherhood’s efforts to conceal their tracks, I found an ancient tome, downstairs in the ‘restricted area’ of East Greenwich Library, which discusses the rituals in detail) I discovered  these vulnerable young people are recruited upon their arrival in the town, often as early as Freshers Week, and used as ‘procurers,’ finding plastic representations of the Enemies of Joey - for example, this cockatiel, though I have seen budgerigars, macaws and even, once, a peach-faced lovebird – and preparing them for sacrifice.

I dare not say more. Even now, the Brotherhood is monitoring the action of this blog via their stranglehold on the Worldwide Web. I feel its spies closing in upon me. The cloak of anonymity cannot conceal my whereabouts for long. They are coming…

the attachments to this post:

dead parrot 2 low
dead parrot 2 low

dead parrot 1 low
dead parrot 1 low

dead parrot 3 low
dead parrot 3 low

8 Comments to “Blood Sacrifice”

  1. Dazza says:

    ‘He’s not dead, he’s pining for the ……’( Hang on, where do Cockatiels come from?)

  2. Oh, Dazza, I thought I’d done such a good job of not mentioning the P sketch once…

  3. Benedict says:

    I blame the Dreded Green Parakeet Fachistas from the top of the hill, not to be confused with the Social Democratic Union of Green Parakeets from West Greenwich…….

  4. Dazza says:

    ‘All Hail Joey, the bringer of budgiegedden’

  5. Benedict says:

    Joey is not The Messiah…..he’s a very naughty boy….

  6. Long John's Liver says:

    My cabin boy informs me that he’s never kissed a parrot, but he’s kissed a cockatoo

  7. [...] the gates to Devonport House, near the Grisly Altar of Doom (avert your eyes – however shocking that such heavenly perfume should be,  pervading such [...]