"Filthy, disGUSTING rodents!- or whatever you are...", a newly feathered wing smacked way the small Marmosets away from the underbrush, his pale, stagnant feathers were no longer nasty, and odd... with them able to grow, they stuck out far more... lusciously.

"You've had your FUN!", the talons of a malicious killer came down on the camera lens, crushing it... indefinitely. His eyes raised, still baggy, and dry... at least his feathers looked good. He slowly lumbered long through the underbrush at a nasty pace, the monkeys backing up against the trees.

"Don't kill us Nigel!", one peeped out, peeping loudly, and quite wimpish as a long, nasty talon met his neck, raising his chin.

"Kill you?", that proper voice asked, as his deep yellow black iris' narrowed with a leer smile, "Why would I do that? He gripped the speaker in one rapid motion, and tossed him aside, before giving a flap of his wing, landing on a long branch, and brushing his feather atop his head back, "No, I've no intention of wasting such time on...", he grimaced,and turned his head to them, "You, runtlings..."

He looked out to the marvelous, colorful scenery that was... Rio.

"No... now that I am...", he flared his head feathers, "Presentable.", he confirmed, "I think I've a much bigger stain on my reputation to smudge off...". The winds from the warm, tropical shoreline brushed all over him... this tree gave him a wide view of the island... oh-so perfect by his taste... if he wasn't so mundane.

He easily ignored the presence of those primates... they were most likely gone now anyway. Satisfied that they were unable to catch him on camera anymore with his... featherless appearance. Now he was renewed... but he was still very BITTER.

"Pests...", he snapped in anger, looking at the setting sun, oh how beautiful it was... "You think you can just rid yourselves of... Nigel!", he flared his wings, and used the left wing, brushing back his feather, as a leer smile crossed his face, "So brash...", he commented, "So foolish...", he rid hatefully, and spread his wings, flaring up into the sky.

He had no intention of returning to his smuggling owner... no, too much weight to carry. Those useless buffoons were all BUT helpful. His dark white feather became smooth, and no longer jagged, even his tail feathers had grow out farther... he looked... bigger. Less dirty, and more... malevolent. With a rapid movement, he took a swan dive into the city itself... he despised flying in the dark, ever since he ran headlong into an electrical adapter... mounted on a damn telephone pole.

If Carnaval was the biggest celebration of the year, it did NOT stop music form being played constantly throughout the verandas. Hey, it was all about the Somba. Oh who was he kidding, with a short grumble, and bumble, he came faltering down through the sky, and landed with a hop, and a clawed grip onto the stone ground. He was very unnoticed amongst the crowds of people, he weaved his way along the empty crates, fruit stands, chicken coops, and of course, exotic meats. This was all customary, and Nigel at least enjoyed this scenery far more than the world inside... so bleak, and boring.

He moved his way suddenly to a hard left, and snuck himself into one of the alleyways, his eyes getting narrow as a way for him to peer into the now darker area. His talons clacked as he slowly moved his way through.

"Oh boooys.", he called out, a dry grin on his beak, getting more hunched over... now he should have done this the first time around.

"Boys...", he called again, after receiving no response, his eyes narrowed, and in the dim alleyway, they grew wide, and angered, "Wake Up!", he snapped, with a deep caw.

"WHOA!", black wings rose out from under a pile of garbage, "I'm up!"

"Yeah We're here! We're goin!", shouted a second. In a quick rise, and plume of small feathers from a long, lazy nap, three heads, scattered along the trash left by lazy housekeepers rose from the pile. Their heads flared up, each with a different color, hidden by all black. Their eyes peeled wide open. One's red, the second blue, and the third yellow... plain, yet pretty colors.

They were indeed exotic... specifically Crested Caracaras. Not from around these parts, but then again Nigel wasn't either.

"Who?", the red eyed black bird peered through the dim light, and suddenly fluttered backward, into the other two, reeling them back, and piling up. They, in one giant blob of feathers, and talons, came rolling down the trash piles, "Bros! Its Nigel!", he warned, as they each landed with a strong oomph.

Or... perhaps this wasn't such a good idea... the Cockatoo crazed his feathers across his face, pulling on his eye lids, and sighing in deep, utter annoyance, "Please make yourselves proper...", he warned, his voice grew cold.

They stopped their struggling, and got to their feet, standing at about his height, "So Nigel...", one began, second tallest, meaning second eldest... the blue eyed Caracara, "Er!-Boss.", he corrected, getting a smile out of it... yes have to remember that, "What brings ya here?", they had light islander's accent, raised completely out of where they belonged.

The shortest gave a smile, uneasy around what they each would call 'uncle'... "Eh yeah...you usually come ta us whenya need someone.- uh..."

The red eyed male, oldest, and most primed, turned from the brother, to the Cockatoo, "Dead.", he finished, and chuckled, "Or as a steppin stone in that direction.", he remained still, trying to keep their employer... satisfied.

In a slow pacing movement, "Yes...", he confirmed, his feather around one of the trash items that had rolled out of the pile they slept in... it was an amethyst stone... which had obviously belonged onto a ring... before being busted off by what evidence it gave him, "Yes I do...", he looked up to them.

"...A-... And?", the blue eyed Crest asked, his feather rustling... swallowing hard.

"Well, my dear little nephews...", he stepped forward, seeing as they were... unconfident in his presence.. he enveloped them each in his wings. A hug... but a cold one, to which they themselves could not tell the difference, "Forgive me if I make you uneasy." he hissed, and shook them lightly, nudging them with his feathers.

In his feather they had little choice but to smile, and be polite, and perhaps a little mischievous.

"Tell me... how have you three been... holding up?", he asked, standing tall, and releasing them rather abruptly, dropping them onto their rears...

"Life's been good.", the red eyed brother answered, "Lotsa girls... lotsa food... lotsa everythin.", he didn't nod or smile, but he wasn't hard to the core either... he liked to have fun, but in Nigel's presence the fun came AFTER he gave them a job...

"Yes, everyone seems happy... in Rio...", the Cockatoo mumbled, flicking a particle of dirt off his new feathers, he looked back at them, "How is my new look?", he asked halfheartedly, looking himself over moreso...

"Uh, lookin good sir.", the youngest gave him a bird's thumbs up, and jumped as a firework went almost directly overhead the alleyway.

"Yeah... real pretty.", the second eldest peeped.

"Yes but do I still have that... dark sense?", he asked, twitching his tail feathers left and right, giving a strut, "Be honest.", he told them, and then turned, "Eh-nevermind!", he didn't shout, he was just going off track. In a quick flash he gained his more contemplative stance, "Boys I have a job for you...", he began.

"You need somebody-"

"Dead!", he looked at them in a wide eyed, twisted expression, "Two! Dead, is what I need!"

His angry outburst made them uneasy again, tapping their claws, and flicking their eyes to one another to remain neutral to their... uncle...

"And... you want us to do it?"

"Oh heavens no, Jeran...", he waved his wing down, and looked at the oldest, "I want you three to find me a killer...", he hissed.

"Well... arnt you one-"

"Besides! me...", he corrected, and glared, turned away from the three... another firework went off overhead, the light turned his eyes color a dark red... then yellow. So evil...

"But Nig- boss... There ain't a single bird round here this time a year that'll pull a job like that.", Jeran added... but he did not overstep his boundaries.

"OH don't be so hasty...", the talons of the cockatoo raised off the ground, like a finger raised, he tsked the black Caracara, "I'm sure with some..." he grabbed the younger bird by the beak, "Ingenuity!... you can...", he pushed him back h much vigor, "Find me someone capable...", he chuckled openly, then turned his smile to them, "I know you three can do, just this one little task... yes?"

Like a bunch of slaves, they nodded in obedience, "What exactly are ya lookin for?", the second eldest asked... staring on with as much patience as he could mount with uncle Nigel.

With a rub of his chin, and flare of his head feathers, "Hmmm... Effective.", was the one descriptive answer he gave the three. He turned to face them, "When you've got one... bring them to me...", he hunched and spread his wings, "The clock tower... Midnight.", he stated, "I will be their or ten minutes... if you don't arrive... then you best hope your bird has time issues.", he grunted, and took a slow flight.

"See you soon Boys!", he cawed, and with that loud, odd laugh... he flew fast, and hard through the sky.

In his absence, the three exhaled in relief... and began to look amongst eachother. Their eyes were a little too calm now... as though they KNEW what they were doing almost.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors for whoever gets the partyhouses...", the youngest coed, shaking his tail feathers, "The Somba is soundin gooood tonIGHT.", he taunted. And like a horde of flies to meat,they gathered.

"Yer on!", the oldest answered... the middle child smiling confidently as they readied their talons for a good best two out of three.

Without watching the three exactly, they soon fluttered themselves out of the alleyway, and into the sky, heading in three different directions. And they flew fast for their sizes, each one laughed, and amusedly flew low over the lively cityscape. The sun was nearly set... oh what a beautiful sight this place was... the music grew louder and louder as that hot sun sank over the horizon.

Smugglers were expecting a drop off that night...