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Not Exactly A Walk In The Park 🥴
It was one of those perfect, lazy afternoons where the sun was warm, the breeze cool, and the sky was cartoonishly blue. I was strolling through the Angry Birds island, enjoying the bouncy ground beneath my feet, when I heard it: a snort. A sneaky, unmistakable snort. Pigs.
A flutter of wings signaled Red’s dramatic arrival. “Ready to take down some pigs?” he asked, already bristling with battle energy. I grinned. “Born ready.” We trotted to the nearest slingshot, Red hopping in like he’d done this a thousand times. And honestly, he had.
I yanked the slingshot back, aiming at a group of pigs lounging in a rickety wooden fortress, blissfully unaware. “Three… two… one…” TWANG - Red shot through the air, feathers flaring and squawking his trademark battle cry. He smashed into the fortress like a tiny, feathery wrecking ball. Pigs and debris flew in all directions, and for a second, I swear I saw a pig helmet land in a tree.
“Nice shot!” Chuck zipped up behind me, buzzing with excitement. Before I could even respond, he was already in the slingshot. “Watch this!” he yelled, his beak spread in a wide grin. I let him fly, and in a flash, Chuck had torn through the rest of the fortress like a needle through a pillow. Pigs squealed, flying every which way. It was glorious.
But those pigs weren’t done yet. In the distance, they’d holed up in an ice fortress, smirking with those goofy grins. “Bomb, it’s your time to shine.” With a thunderous *thud*, Bomb, the black bird, waddled up. He didn’t speak - he just glared at the ice with pure destructive intent. I stretched the slingshot and sent him sailing toward the pigs.
BOOM! The ice fortress exploded in a magnificent shower of shards, and pigs shot into the sky like little green fireworks. Bomb grunted in satisfaction. The look on his face said it all: job well done.
As I strolled through the island, I felt like I was on a dream team. Matilda dropped explosive eggs with her motherly precision, while The Blues - Jim, Jake, and Jay - split into three and caused triple the mayhem. No pig was safe.
Soon enough, though, the pigs got tricky. One group hid in a giant watermelon, while another tried to escape in a pig-sized hot air balloon. I’ll admit, I had to get creative with my shots, but the birds and I took them down, one ridiculous hideout at a time.
By the time the sun began to set, we stood atop a hill surrounded by defeated pig helmets. Red gave me a proud nod. “Not bad for a human,” he said, smirking.
Chuck zipped by, feathers flying. “Round two tomorrow?” he called, still buzzing with energy.
I wiped some dirt off my cheek. “Oh, for sure. But maybe after a snack.” Even pig hunters need to refuel.
With that, I resumed my stroll, the birds at my side, knowing tomorrow promised even more pig-popping fun.
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GAME ON ✊🐽🔥
愤怒的小鸟 (Fènnù de xiǎo niǎo) , 앵그리버드 (Aenggeuribodeu) , アングリーバード (Angurī Bādo) , Злые птички (Zlye Ptichki) , Pássaros Furiosos
4 окт 2024
