coo coooo

I look up and see a beautiful white dove, perched on the wall above the ice cream window. I get my coworker's attention, "Greg, look, there's a dove in the store." I point in the general direction, and both of our heads turn at the same time. What I see, instead of the bird on the wall, is a dove trapped inside the cherry slushie machine.

"Oh, no. He's in the slushie machine. How'd he get in there?"

coo coo

Those were the last words out of the bird's mouth. He had frozen/drowned/been chopped up by the machine.

A dead dove.