With the media focusing its resources on COVID-19 and murder hornets, a new threat has emerged in my quiet and normally predator-free neighborhood: some mutant giant birds that (presumably) want me dead.

I first saw these harbingers of death on my daily walk in Sartell last weekend. At first I thought they were a hallucination brought upon by my lack of water in the hot sun.

However, much to my horror, they were real. Very real. The realest.

Standing, by my estimation, 16 feet tall and speaking perfect English (again, this may not be accurate... I was thirsty), the birds surveyed me from afar before beginning to shuffle their way toward me on the sidewalk.

Like any courageous man would do in this situation, I shrieked and ran in the opposite direction, leaving the birdstrosities in the dust. I had won round one.

I didn't leave the house for a few days after that encounter. Couldn't muster the courage. However, this proved to be a key strategic error which gave these creatures god forgot more time to plot against me for our next encounter.

I took another route on my next walk, far from the land of mutants where I would be safe from encountering these flesh-eating giants from another planet. That was my second mistake.

As I walked up 19th Avenue I passed some woods beyond a barn. With my headphones on, I didn't hear the rustling as these giant harbingers of death snuck up behind me in broad daylight.

This time I was paralyzed with fear and could not run away. It was as if I was in a trance. I offered them a chunk of my Clif Bar as a gesture of peace, which seemed to confuse them.

I didn't stick around to see if my offer was accepted, instead jumping into the bed of a moving pickup truck before hopping out at a stop sign in Holdingford.

I'm not going back to Sartell until these murder birds are identified and apprehended.