......then came the great schism, when the evil, banal, arrogant, nerdy, Grand Fromage became jealous of we two young upstarts and began to make up false accusations in the hope of maintaining his boring stranglehold. The Grand Vizier, too scared to showcase his photographs, became embroiled in the dastardly plot and flailed wildly about the place not knowing what to do (alas there was no change there). Thus began the eternal conflict when we would dish out a daily kicking to the opposition.
There were casualties everywhere. Myself and Derek managed to fight off waves and waves of committee members, their bodies were strewn across the battlefield, bloated and festering in the midday sun. It was an horrific sight, one that I will probably never forget. Despite all the odds we prevailed, forcing our once allies to wallow in their own squalid pit of boredom and unprofessionalism, which was quite easy as they never do any birding in the fair land of the North.
Above: Sighting of the year? Part of the flock of 73 Slender-billed Curlews at Tyrella Beach in July.
The gods smiled favourably on our actions and as an act of universal thanks turned the McGarry Brothers into three Little Egrets, which was a great diservice to Egrets everywhere so they became the 3 Eejits, doomed forevermore to be laughed at and pitied in equal measure.
Finally, the last great battle took place, our fifth columnists were waiting and the pressure was piled on .....and lo in the final days of the year someone got even Sadder and Lonelier as their Fatbirder rankings went into a free-fall. Every trap we set he fell for it, it really was too easy. Well, to be honest it was nothing to do with us, being obnoxious to almost everybody you have and haven't met does wear thin after a while. Who knows what will become of the Birder-Formerly-Known-As-Stringy-Now-Regarded-As-Just-Another-Crank? Does anybody care? No, people do not care much for one-trick ponies. Yea, so it was thus. Verily. All bow down before this picture of a chicken. Amen.