Mega wasn’t proud of being a bully, exactly. He preferred to think of it as…assertive territory management. He ruled the rooftops of Seabrook Estates with a squawk and a well-timed dive-bomb. Smaller gulls scattered at his approach. Humans, bless their predictable habits, left behind half-eaten fries and dropped ice cream cones, and Mega ensured those resources were… efficiently redistributed.
He’d started small, snatching crumbs from the weaker fledglings. Then it escalated. A strategically placed dropping on Mrs. Gable’s freshly washed car. A coordinated raid on Old Man Hemlock’s bird feeder. Mega had earned his reputation. He was, by any measure, the top gull.
His days were a comfortable rhythm of intimidation and scavenging. He’d perch on the highest point of the Gable’s roof, surveying his domain, occasionally preening a wing or letting out a triumphant cry. Life was good. Predictable.
Then he arrived.
Mega first noticed him as a shadow. A vast, impossibly large shadow that eclipsed the sun for a moment. He dismissed it as a trick of the light, until the shadow landed.
The newcomer was…substantial. A seagull of truly epic proportions. His wingspan seemed to stretch the entire length of the roof. His beak was thick and formidable, and his eyes… they held a cold, calculating intelligence.
Mega, for the first time in his life, felt a flicker of… apprehension.
He puffed out his chest, attempting a display of dominance. He let out his loudest, most threatening squawk. It sounded… pathetically small in the face of the newcomer’s sheer size.
The larger gull didn’t even bother to respond. He simply tilted his head, fixing Mega with a gaze that said, “Is that all you’ve got?”
Mega tried again. A frantic series of dives and shrieks, designed to demonstrate his aerial superiority. The larger gull didn’t flinch. He remained motionless, a granite statue against the clear blue sky.
Finally, Mega, his bravado crumbling, landed awkwardly on the roof, a few feet away from the behemoth.
“Who… who are you?” he stammered, his voice uncharacteristically small.
The larger gull let out a single, resonant cry. It wasn’t a squawk, not exactly. It was more of a booming announcement.
“They call me Behemoth,” he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the roof tiles. “And this… is my territory now.”
Mega, the self-proclaimed king of Seabrook Estates, felt a wave of humiliation wash over him. He looked around, expecting the smaller gulls to witness the power shift, to see his fall from grace. But they were nowhere to be seen. They’d likely sensed the change in the wind, and wisely taken cover.
Behemoth didn’t demand a fight. He didn’t need to. His size alone was enough. He simply began to preen his feathers, casually asserting his dominance.
Mega, defeated, shuffled to the far end of the roof, a small, pathetic figure in the shadow of the new king. He was no longer the bully. He was just… another gull.
He watched as Behemoth surveyed the neighborhood, his gaze sweeping over the houses, the gardens, the unsuspecting humans. Mega knew, with a sinking feeling, that life in Seabrook Estates was about to change. And he, the former tyrant, was going to have to learn to share. Or, more likely, scavenge whatever scraps Behemoth left behind.
It wasn’t a glorious ending. But it was, Mega realized with a grudging respect, a very, very effective demonstration of power.
