Murder at the Pool Party
Morgan sighed. This was not the bachelor party he’d had in mind. Or stag party, as some people call them. Why on earth would a crow want to go to a stag party? He had envisioned a more subdued gathering, perhaps a nice meal with a few close friends followed by a few pints at the local – nothing too crazy. Instead he was surrounded by a bunch of whooping, splashing, pool-bombing hooligans. He wasn’t even sure he knew everyone. Who the hell was that guy with the big, shiny wings? Bloody show-off.