Image: Hugo Stimberg
Stimberg had thought a study of owls would make for an interesting piece. He employed six and arranged them on a perch above the town’s waste dump. He he had a short window of opportunity as he knew the owls were not likely to co-operate for all that long.
His next appointment was coming over the hill, and he could see that they would be late as one had fallen arse overhead and the other was soon to follow.
The owls were not being helpful at all, and he could see them looking daggers at number 6 who refused to face the right way.
“What’s wrong with you?” asked Number 1.
“It’s the stench,” stated 6.
“Can’t you put all that aside for the moment, Stimberg is paying us top birdseed for this.” replied 2.
“People will think the fumes are us farting,” exclaimed 6.
“Don’t be silly,” said 3, “against the setting sun it could be anything.”
“I don’t want our reputation sullied by any lurid suggestions nor innuendo,” replied 6 who by now was digging in his claws.
“Oh, for goodness sake, grow a beak and look front,” yelled 5 who by now was getting fed up with 6’s antics.
“One more minute,” called Stimberg to the assembled owls, “One more minute and we are done. Birdseed for everyone.”
Stimberg then made a flourish with his brush and announced he was done as two dishevelled boys arrived at the front door.