HOUSE-MADE SOFT PRETZEL

THE SAVE

Once Upon a Time in a Land Far, Far Away (Inglewood)... 

A noble 310-er made an unexpected discovery.

Tucked away on the terrace level, near the glowing warmth of the popcorn portable, she stumbled upon the fairest of creatures: the mystical, majestic, rarely seen.

A pet pigeon.

He was frail, the smallest creature in all the land. His slender body survived on sheer willpower and a questionable diet of Classic & Butter Toffee popcorn. Though he tried to appear brave - flapping his wings and evading close inspection - it was clear. This new pigeon friend was lost, alone, and not meant for the concrete jungle life in which he'd taken residence.

She watched him linger day after day (okay it was 2 days), shuffling between kernels, doing his best to survive in a world built for humans and halftime snacks. 

So she did what any hero would do. She began calling around. Animal control. Wildlife centers. Local agencies. Voicemail after voicemail echoed her concern, until finally salvation arrived in the form of a gruff, vaguely-grumpy-for-someone-who-saves-animals-for-a-living voice on the other end. A rescuer. A protector of the feathered and forgotten. Bruce.

“Yes,” Bruce said. “I can take him. He’ll be safe. But hurry up. It's late and I want to go to bed."

But of course, no good deed goes unpunished. There was a catch. Bruce lived in Lomita. A land even far, far, farther away.

Undeterred, our heroine sprang into action. With stealth and determination, she coaxed the bird into a box - a line of kernels dotting the noble path - carefully concealed the pigeon in his temporary chariot, and entered the arena.

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Doors slid open. Elevators hummed. No one suspected a thing as she descended. She reached the loading dock. The air changed. Freedom was close. She leapt into the car and drove, mile after mile, away from the land of popcorn and glowing marquees, toward a quieter place where pigeons could thrive. 

At last she arrived to the suburban sanctuary. A home nestled snuggly in a quiet, dimly lit neighborhood. Was it safe? Was Bruce secretly a serial killer luring victims to his home with the promise of animal care? Risks be damned (sorry, Ed)!

With the swish of Apple's corporate wishes, our protagonist deployed her text. "I'm here."

And so, the tiny terrace pigeon, once surviving on scattered kernels and hope, was given a second chance. Free from popcorn peril, he would live out his days in peace, far from foot traffic and toffee temptations. Eating a diet intended for his gentle nature and delicate tummy. 

Eventually, the arena returned to its rhythm. The popcorn machine popped as the birria stacks sizzled. But our heroine slept soundly knowing somewhere in Lomita, our pigeon friend flew free. 

And that, dear reader, is how Tori saved Pete the Pigeon.

The End. 

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