What’s a city without its filthiest fauna?
We first saw our pigeon friend perched on top of Patches’ coonskin cap, staring down with vacancy into his cornflower eyes. I hadn’t put too much thought into that first design, and just knocked off the bird from memory. There were a few glaring thing wrong with it. The first was the coloration, it’s not actually pigeon-like at all. It needed to be fatter, more horrible. I gave it another shot.
Closer to what I was imagining, but still not there. The eyes need to get more gruesome for one thing, and the plumage is too nice. The color on the neck, while close to what pigeons actually have, clashed a bit too much with the muted tones of the rest of the body. Also, those feet. Those gross, gross feet. They need to be grosser.
Now we’re cooking with oil. Sure, it’s the oil thrown out by a greasy spoon diner last night. But hell, what more can you ask?