Serious Question

How does one go about murdering a pigeon?

There is a puffy-chested, yellow-grey pigeon that perches its lecherous self outside our bedroom windows every morning and - starting as soon as the sun cracks the horizon - "coo"s and "hoo"s and "hoo-hoo"s and "prrrrrrbbb-ooo"s me into a murderous rage. And then it shits on our car. The neighbours refer to it as a "morning dove", which sounds too classy or dignified to describe something I loath so much. This bird ensures that every fleeting interval between Lydia crying and the cats whining for food and ultimately, my alarm going off, is spent awake and in a state of irrational sleepy seething anger.

So, the question: how do we get rid of this thing? It seems to return annually - it was here last year when we moved in. The neighbours know of it and are annoyed by it as well. That these guys are to quasi-legal poisons and pesticides what Picasso was to paint, and yet the thing still lives: not a good sign. In my early morning state, I have contemplated my options: from the simple and uninspired (opening the window and screaming obscenities), to the equally simple yet somewhat more brutal (standing in my driveway, in my underwear because I'm too pissed to get dressed, launching fistfuls of gravel at the thing), to the elaborate and illegal (flamethrowers, shotguns, a swarming cloud of nano-machines). All have an equivalent potential for success: nil.

My family and friends have spoken at length, with surprising seriousness, regarding birds and their innate creepiness: as supernatural figures with deep, black, pupil-less eyes... as forerunners to death and disaster... as harvesters of souls... as ominous agents of reincarnation... as murderous, eye-pecking, disease-carrying monsters... etc. Well then, what to make of this eff-ing pigeon? Is it critiquing our very un-Green suburban lifestyle? Is it warning us of some pending disaster? Is it a deceased past-resident haunting us from the grave for our interior design choices or our procrastination at fixing up the back deck? Or is it simply a lonely spinster pigeon crying out for some pigeon love?

Regardless, I hate it. Dead or alive, I want it to go away. All manner of practical suggestions are welcome.