After the sighting of fugitive Wayne-O Pijin in Winchfawr near Merthyr, I set about trying to trace his location.
His erstwhile comrade Bazza of the Black Wood had heard a rumour that he was ' up to something in the mountains'.
Former legal adviser Timothy Rich-Pickings believed that he'd actually joined his former enemies the seagulls in Cardiff ; while ex-campaign manager Al-Wings Jones thought he might be forming a religious coo-coo-mune.
Eventually, I hatched a plan to capture an interview with the notorious criminal himself.
Having purchased a bird-cage and chocolate doughnut, I placed the latter inside the former and draped a cloth over the cage.
On a Sunday morning I had an idea where I'd find one of Wayne-O's favourite wives Gloria McFly and , sure enough, there she was 'clearing up' overnight splashes of vomit down by the Labour Club.
I told her that Pijin was inside the cage together with his final treat, before I would return him to Merthyr police station.
{I had placed a small recording device inside the doughnut, so Wayne-O's voice came from the cage}.
I assured Gloria that I'd promised Pijin 'one quick bonk' before returning him to captivity.
Most obligingly, she eagerly entered the cage and I immediately locked the door.
She was in such a flap that she even ignored the tempting doughnut, which was still emitting Wayne-O's words of wisdom.
Once inside I explained that if she failed to inform me where Wayne-O was hiding, then I would take her to the police for aiding and abetting.
She was distraught and denied that she knew of his whereabouts.
However, she wanted me to promise I wouldn't turn him in and merely interview him.
When I did so, she admitted she'd heard rumours that he was hiding in a cave in an abandoned limestone quarry.
After several miles walking over difficult terrain and trying to avoid suspicious bands of 'magi pickers', we arrived at his possible hideaway.
In the cave I thought I was being attacked by a plague of bats.
I soon realised that these were, in fact, pigeons camouflaged in black, all wearing dark glasses and berets.
I hurriedly agreed to release Gloria McFly and produced several corned -beef pasties to show I had no evil intentions.
Sure enough, in the depths of the cave and perched on a ledge, was Wayne-O Pijin.
On the rocky floor, spelt out in bird-droppings, were the letters RAF.
When I asked if he'd joined the Air Force he coo-ackled.
' My friend, all is changed. I now reject totally the cult of Pijinism.
When in prison, I had a revelation.
I would never have escaped without the help of a seagull and a mynah bird.
Now I know that all birds must act in solidarity.
So I have formed the RAF, the Revolutionary Avian Front.
Our avowed intention is to bring liberty to all oppressed birds : turkeys who will be slaughtered for Christmas, chickens daily assassinated in their thousands and to many imprisoned comrades in zoos and wildlife parks.
My friend, you can tell your fellow No-Wings that from now on we will not act in servitude.
We are guerillas on the wing!'
PIJIN GUERILLAS
We are the RAF,
we're guerillas in the air
we will unlock all cages
we'll release every factory hen
no Pretty Pollys squawking,
no budgies or canaries tweeting
we will open up every zoo,
bring down fences of wildlife parks
Homers no more, or clipped wings,
turkeys will be celebrating Christmas freedom
we are the Revolutionary Avian Front :
a bird-for-each-bird movement!
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