Carry-out business at Blessed Mama Mia Pizza sizzled.

William kept all the lights off in the apartment for a better look at the massive Blessed Mother vigil on the street outside his second-story window. Marveling at the religious spectacle below, with lines of customers getting longer every night, William approved of the sign taped on the door that said, “No mask, no brains, no service.”

Despite objections from pizzeria co-owner Sal “Muscles” Marinara, co-owner Gina refused to budge.

Nobody’s giving Mary the Corona, Gina said.

Whatever, Sal said.

Although America hit the 100,000 dead mark from COVID-19, people seemed in good spirits. Sal even offered a “personal pandemic pizza” at half price that sold out each night. Gina seemed embarrassed with all the fuss over the Virgin’s image on the wall but offered no complaints with the increased business. If sales continued, she wouldn’t have to sell out to the Pizza King.

William wanted the neighborhood business to succeed. He hated Vic and was glad to see him out of the picture. He hated Sal, too, a hustler ex-con who respected nothing or nobody, not even himself. But William respected Gina, a hard working woman who understood traditional family values. He had to admit, though, that the image of Jesus’ mother on the wall took him by surprise when he stopped that first night and backed out of the pizza parlor. All the bells went off in his head when he thought the Blessed Virgin was signaling an ambush.

None of that mattered now. Life changed overnight. Nowadays life changed every night.

William sat still and quiet.

But his bird wouldn’t shut up.

Turn off the light, turn off the light, said William’s parrot, Dillon.

William threw a leftover pizza crust through the open bird cage door, giving the bird something to chew on. Dillon ignored his favorite food. Pacing back and forth in his cage he ruffled his feathers and started busting off.

Turn off the light, Dillon said.

Be quiet, William said.

Turn off the light, the bird said.

I did turn off the light, William said.

Say goodnight, Mary, Dillon said.

William remained calm.

Please be quiet, he said.

Turn off the goddamn light, Dillon said.

Drained from his mission to the cemetery, William stretched out on the floor. All things considered, Operation Paintball was shaping up just fine. Eventually the cops would get involved and he’d receive sensational news coverage which was OK with him. He needed to raise public awareness to the seriousness of the disease. And his next target, the Reverend, needed a shot in the ass to remind him that running his mouth on the radio has consequences.

William reached up, closed the widow and pointed to the TV.

You want to watch a movie?

The birds, Dillon said.

They must have watched the 1963 Alfred Hitchcock thriller together about 100 times. Lately the horror flick seemed to be the only calming influence in Dillon’s life. When William went to work he put on the movie and programmed his television to run the video on a continuous loop.

In retrospect, that probably wasn’t a good idea.

When William forgot to close the window and Dillon escaped one day in early May, a local television crew caught him dive-bombing the take-out window of a chicken wing restaurant, zeroing in on the hand-off between clerk and customer. Dillon hit nine out of 10 white fast food bags with precision pooping that splattered thick green and yellow globs on a bombing run that would have impressed any aerial warfare ace. After flying amok, getting it out of his system, so to speak, Dillon flew home, sat on the sill for a while, hopped into his cage and immediately started squawking.

Go shit in your hat, Dillon said five times in a row.

Now William fell asleep as they watched the movie about bloodcurdling attacks by crows, seagulls, ravens and sparrows against men, women and children on the California coast.

Dillon started reciting dialogue.

I think we’re in real trouble, he said.

They’ll be back, he said.

William awoke and lifted his head.

Go to sleep, he said.

Dillon recited his favorite line in the movie.

It’s the end of the world, he said.