The adventures of Frederick the Seagull

This is a solo actual play of the game It's Lunch Time.

Gull name: Frederick

So far the day is quiet. A dock worker (3) is the only one around, hurriedly eating some french fries. A seasoned visitor of the dock, they almost certainly are prepared for a seagull. They sit with a large visored hat, hunched over. I will have to be clever. Time for my most cunning plan: flap around causing havoc!

And it works! As usual, they hurry away in annoyance, dropping 4 precious french fries (2).

Next up, a cafe worker (3) comes over, with a large bag full of ... something? The imporant thing is they are eating apple slices. Not my favourite, but I'm still pretty hungry. And emboldened by my last success. I swoop in and snatch the bag of apple slices (1). They swing a bag (tote bag full of books, 3) at me but I am long gone, with my precious ziplock bag. I sit perched above them and let the bag slowly drift to the floor as they hold up that small rectangle that humans love in my direction, talking into it in their human language.

Emboldened, I look around. A homeless person (3) has found a particularly succulent looking piece of deep fried cod (4) and have left it just there, as if don't know about the gulls. That should have aroused some suspicion, but the fish just looks so good. Without a care in the world, I swoop in - and narrowly miss the jaws of the wire basket falling down around me. It's the bird catcher! Or one of them, anyway. A cunning trick to put me off my guard! I hear they put these little plastic bands on your feet. I fly off squacking, sadly cod-less.

I look for an easier target. It's later in the day now and school is out. A student (2) eating a banana is walking home. They run fast (quick footed, 1), but I fly faster, and I snatch the banana from their hands. Only it's just a banana peel! They've eaten the last bit! Dejected, I fly around sadly for a bit. Soon it'll be too late to get any food.

Ok, my last chance. A tourist (0) is here, pointing that rectangle at everything, a half-eaten container of Chinese takeout next to them. Tourists are an easy target. I strut by looking cute. They are smiling, intently focusing on their little black rectangle. They don't have a chance. I dive for their food, and they try and block me with a plastic poncho but I am long gone.

At the end of the day, I'm still pretty hungry. Life as a seagull is hard. I don't get why the humans won't just give me all their fries. They seem to have some kind of magical fry making machine that makes unlimited fries and yet they guard them so carefully.

Written June 17 2022