You adopted a pair of ravens. Well, you adopted a pair of raven chicks. Well, you found them in a nest, looking a bit confused. They were fluffy little black lumps. You named them Sarah and Paul. They like you. You feed them. They ride on your shoulders as you’re out buying fish and chips or posting a letter. People say “That’s a nice pair of crows!” But they’re not crows. They’re ravens. “They’re ravens.” You say. And then their faces contract in fear and disgust. And you feel sad because ravens are misunderstood. And to make you feel better, Paul and Sarah fly after the offender and take out an eye each with their sharpened graphite beaks.