Demolition Job by Lauren C. Teffeau

The drone camera feed telescopes open on Lady Bird Lake at dawn. Early risers cavort along the trail system for some fresh air and exercise before the workday rush. The cam surprises a grackle soaring over the water, and it veers off with an indignant squawk. Emergency klaxons blare, followed by, “Five minutes remaining,” in an automated voice. Distant cheers break out. The drone cam flies toward the sounds, panning across the expansive greenway weaving through the city.

“What you just heard is the countdown for the demolition of the iconic Sail Tower." The announcer's voice has a pronounced nasal twang, catching the attention of anyone who scrolls past this clip on their personal feed. "Our reporter is on scene where, I'm told, a flash mob has overwhelmed the observation area.”

Holographic tape encircling the demolition zone strobes every time someone gets too close to the skeletal building stripped clean of anything remotely valuable. The crowd swells with faces smiling in anticipation of seeing the once-gleaming thirty-five-story skyscraper reduced to rubble. Vendors wearing 3D printers on their backs pump out merch to commemorate the occasion.

A woman in a scandalous chartreuse dress faces the drone cam. "This is Galena Garcia for The Austin Chronicle. Here stands the last remaining artifact of the broligarchy era. A period of decadence and social strife that came to define the first part of this century. Once a prestigious landmark, this building is now a painful reminder of a time when tech companies extorted the American public of their privacy and economic freedom."

Squeals of joy erupt from the crowd behind her as a mariachi rendition of “Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die” starts up.

“But if this crowd’s any indication, no one is too upset to see it go. It will become a new nature commons, tying into the city’s network of parks, gardens, and nature trails, benefiting locals and the local fauna alike. While we wait, I have a special guest with me: Professor Strazds of the University of Texas who recently broke the language barrier between humans and grackles. Welcome, Doctor.”

A man emerges from the crowd with a grackle perched on his gloved hand. The bird's oil slick plumage ruffles as the drone cam buzzes overhead.

“Tell us, Doctor, how you’re able to speak to this bird.”

He brandishes a small touch screen. "With this. I speak what I want to say to Amsel, here, and the Gracklese Translator spits out the response.”

“Three minutes remaining.” Another wave of cheers.

Galena smiles. "Amsel, are you looking forward to having a new section of the city to call home?”

There’s an awkward pause as the program translates the reporter’s words into a series of squawks and squeals. Amsel cocks his head as he listens, then responds. Another pause. Galena’s smile grows more grotesque as she imagines all the viewers scrolling by as the translation’s processed.

Finally, the bird’s response emanates from the device: "Will there be breakfast tacos?"

An animated interrobang appears over the professor’s face, blocking a string of curses from the broadcast. "I was afraid this might happen," he says. 

"Yes, Amsel,” Galena says sweetly because the show must go on. “In addition to dedicated greenspace, approximately 5,000 square feet will be allocated for retail and dining, so there's a good chance breakfast tacos will be included." 

As Amsel listens to the Gracklese Translator, he puffs up his chest, spreads his wings wide. He flaps them once, twice, then lets out an ear-splitting croak.

"What's gotten into him?" Galena asks as Amsel jabbers away.

The translator repeats, "Breakfast tacos," over and over again.

Birds from the nearby trees answer Amsel’s call. Amidst all the croaking and clacking, a grackle divebombs the drone cam. Another swoops close, lands on the professor's shoulder, and pecks his ear. 

"Did someone say tacos?"

The reporter squeals as a handful of grackles and a couple streetwise pigeons sidle up and bump against her legs.

"I had a breakfast taco once from this trashcan by a big elm. You know the one?"

Amsel jerks at his lead to no avail as an annoyance of grackles descends upon the scene.

"I fought a dog for a breakfast taco and won.”

Galena turns to Dr. Strazds. "You never said this would happen in the screening interview." 

“Where are the breakfast tacos?"

"At least it's not mating season,” the professor replies. “I lost half my grad students last spring. Said it was a hostile work environment because the birds could not shut up about—”

Another interrobang dances across the screen.

The reporter grabs the Gracklese Translator and screams, "There are no breakfast tacos here!"

The annoyance is now a plague. A grackle tugs on her updo, another shits on her shoulder, but at least the whitish-yellow ooze compliments her outfit.

Someone in the crowd shouts, "Tacos, get your tacos. Brisket, kolaches, breakfast tacos and more!"

The birds start moving in that direction.

“One minute remaining.”

Tears run down the reporter’s perfect face, still smiling into the drone cam. "This is Galena Garcia, reporting on behalf of The Austin Chronicle, subsidiary of Rogan Enterprises, a KXAN Production." 

An interrobang fills the frame just before the drone cam cuts away from Galena. 

The automated voice counts down from thirty with nearly everyone joining in. 

“….3, 2, 1.”

An instant of utter silence. Then explosions slam through the building’s lower levels, followed by others strategically placed to ensure the building collapses in on itself. Before the dust settles, the crowds swarm the demo site to collect bits of rubble as souvenirs. 

"There you have it,” the announcer cuts in. “The scene at the old Sail Tower. Its transformation will usher in a brighter era for our fair city."

A grackle cruises into the drone cam’s field of vision. With a clicking trill, it careens toward the camera, knocking it askew. The rotors whine as it spirals closer and closer to the water.

"Stay tuned for —"

The End

Demolition Job (c) Copyright 2026 by Lauren C. Teffeau