Birds

The group of boys looked round at each other, nervously. They were excited, invigorated... but ultimately a little lost and confused. The voice had been so compelling. As the woman had sung, they had listened: their bodies becoming vessels for the longing and power in her voice. They'd lapped up every word they could decipher until the last few notes played out and they were standing, once again, on the street corner looking at each other. They felt exposed, but it wasn't unpleasant. The problem was the vagueness of the woman in the song... like a siren on a rock calling them to her but leaving out the vital details. The blonde boy clicked off the radio.

Each of them keenly wanted the milkshake; deep in their souls they felt an urging more powerful than anything they had heard before. But where was the yard? Had there really been nowhere in that beat heavy track to include a postal code or a vague name so they had something to go on? The boys shifted their weight, unsure how to satisfy the powerful longing in their bodies.

The tall one spoke.

"I know a yard." he said quickly spitting the words out like they were hot to the tongue.

"Where?" asked the fat one.

"I... It's not far from here. Near the touristy bit. I've seen the address on bottles of my mother's. It's a very famous yard."

"Let's go!" said the short one.

They bundled off down the street. Eagerly anticipating the sweet milkshake that was waiting for them at the yard.

---

"Either you buy something or get out. I don't know of any woman and certainly none of my products are edible. I'm sorry, I think you have wasted enough of my time."

Neal was losing his patience with the group of boys. They had bundled into his shop unannounced shouting and gossiping about milkshake and a mysterious woman who was going to let them have some. The best milkshake in the world, they said! Neal had no patience for milkshake. He watched anxiously as the fat one and the topless one argued dangerously close to his precious blue bottles.

"It must be the wrong yard!" shouted the squinty one.

"Sorry." mumbled the tall one, "It was the only yard I could think of."

"What if she wasn't saying just "the yard" " said the feline one, "What if she was saying "the yard"?"

"Well, where's the yard?" asked the extremely skinny one.

"Follow me!" yelled the feline one.

---

The police were even less impressed than Neal.

"We are not willing to take on this case." said the man at the desk.

"What, the famous case of the missing milk shake?" asked the tallest one.

"Yes. This is a place for serious investigations. Not for boys looking for milkshake. Why don't you pop down the the Shake Shed? They put biscuits in their milkshakes." the man at the desk really was trying to be friendly despite his fraying patience.

"It wouldn't be the same." said the anaemic one. "Her milkshake will be better. It's the best. The radio said so."

"Well, you've got the wrong yard here I'm afraid. There's no milkshake for you here."

The boys filed out, one by one, back out onto the street into the daylight. Shame was clouding them. What kind of a group of boys couldn't even find the yard containing the best milkshake a woman had to offer? They felt like failures. They felt like feminism had bested them. They felt like the worst outcome of everything the Daily Mail had warned them about. Now that women had the milkshake and the right to vote, they no longer had to tell the boys where the milkshake was.

"We'll never find that milkshake now." said the loudest one.

A man walking past on the street looked up, sharply. "Milkshake?" he asked.

"Yes!" Said the loudest one. "The best milkshake in the world. But it's hidden away. The location is a mystery."

The man walking past on the street wiped away a telltale white moustache and leaned in; taking pity on the boys. "You should get down to Kelis' Milkshake Yard on the High Street. It's just opened up today. Best milkshake I've ever tasted."

"Hooray!" shouted all the boys! And they ran to the yard. And this time, it was the right yard. They loved the milkshake so much they asked the lady who ran the shop if they could work for her. She said she could teach them, but if they were going to take a course in milkshake making she would have to charge them. They agreed and began the following week. And not a single one of them ever had healthy respect for a woman again.