Narrative Storyline



The legend of the STAPLEVERSE begins in New York City. The birthplace of hip hop culture, sneaker culture, and street culture. The home of EMPIRE STAPLE PIGEONZ. If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.

So what does it take to not just survive, but thrive? A hustler’s mentality. An insatiable appetite to reach new heights. A willingness to risk it all for a chance to win big. If things don’t go according to plan, you gotta pick yourself up and get back in the air. Find solidarity in your crew. Are you with the FEED CLAN, HOOD SQUAD, or POOP GANG? Choose wisely. Things aren’t always just as they appear.



Are you searching for the path to enlightenment? As members of the FEED CLAN Consortium, we have been shown the way. Our mission is to bring glory upon the name of Pigeon FEED, and in turn, ourselves — after all, you are what you eat.

Our calling? Catalogue and classify every morsel that has ever passed through a Pigeon’s beak. In doing so, we are creating an irrefutable ledger documenting the brilliant flavor profiles and subtle nuances of FEED, proving they are not trash, but instead, treasure. As the good word of FEED spreads, throngs of converts will flock to this great melting pot to partake in our mission, and our influence will grow. For the elite few who are committed to the mission to collect all FEED, the payoff will be great. For those who toss us aside to follow a different bird calling, just know it’s a crapshoot.


As inductees of the BIG APPLE GUILD (aka The B.A.G.), we have proven our unwavering devotion to the mission of the FEED CLAN Consortium. We scoured the city, swiftly sweeping up each and every FEED variety, documenting our findings in a comprehensive guide. Our literature drew global recognition, with FEED seekers flocking in droves to experience this exceptional city for themselves. In recognition of our contribution to the mission, the Consortium granted us membership to the GUILD, and entrusted each of us with the safe-keeping of this sacred text. The legacy of FEED is in our hands.

The Big Apple Treasure Hunt

Sacred B.A.G. members will then be invited to compete for top of the FEED chain bragging rights. The Consortium has created a challenge to determine who has the deepest knowledge of FEED and the Empire State.



Ah sh!t. Look what we have here. Fresh meat. You think you have what it takes to be part of the POOP GANG? Reckless abandon? Nihilistic tendencies? Look, we’ve seen the other side. Grand promises of salvation and glory. It’s all crap. Toss what you know and change the world with us. Forget about the HOOD SQUAD, tied up in that loyalty bullsh!t. We’re here to let loose and wreak havoc. We’re disintegrating this concrete jungle one acid dropping at a time, erasing the corrupt capitalist agenda that’s been building here for ages. Ready to rip one? LFG!

The POOP GANG vows to captures 500 HOOD PIGEONZ during the Feb 18 AMA with Jeff

Jeff, Jeff, Jeff. I really hate to interrupt you— actually, no, that’s a lie 🤣 I may be a lot of things, but I’m no liar. Get off the stage. You seem to be all about sharing, don’t you, so why don’t you share the mic for a minute… Very commendable, this whole 1000 PIGEONZ for all thing. Just wish you would have included the POOP GANG ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But no sweat, if you’re not going to give, we’ll just take. 500 to be exact. 500 of our very own PIGEONZ to be held by the POOP GANG. Forever. What will we do with them? Wouldn’t you like to know… Carry on, seems like you thought you were saying something important.



This city was built on the feathery backs of dreamers, those who left behind what we knew in search of that which we could only imagine. When we landed here, what did we find? Alley cat fights, squirrel skirmishes, years of toil and torment clawing for a place in the pecking order. Only thing thicker than the sweat and blood shed on this rock is the bond of the HOOD SQUAD. We may have flown the coop we were raised in, but in ESP we found our chosen flock to soar with. 15 ‘hoods strong across all 5 boros, our strength is in our numbers. Together, we reach new heights, claiming this gritty, Pigeon shitty city as our home – but there’s a price to pay for all those who stay.



  • Yankee f*ckin Stadium. What more could you ask for – bird’s eye view at every game. Feasting on dropped peanuts and discarded hot dogs. We’re the OG Bleacher Creatures.
  • Nothing like a Bronx block party. You’ve got 80, 90 of us lighting it up in the streets, fire hydrant popped, Mike’s over there getting his groove on, Joe came through with the leftover pizza. Uptown baby!

Hunts Point

  • You wanna feast? Then you wanna be in Hunts Point. Home to the largest food distro in the WORLD, baby. Those suckers in the other hoods are dealing with middlemen but up here we’re getting our FEED straight from the source. Talk about fresh.
  • No man is an island, but a Hunts Point Pigeon is a peninsula. Or at least nesting on one.

Rikers Island

  • There are a lot of reasons to be proud to be a New Yorker, but Rikers ain't one of them.
  • Sheer lawlessness. Wouldn’t wish this sentence on my worst enemy.

Staten Island

Fresh Kills

  • Who’s up for a history lesson? From 1955 to 2001 Fresh Kills was home to the largest landfill in the world, pulling in 29,000 tons of waste per day, creating giant mounds of garbage up to 200 feet tall. Then the city did a lil rebranding, a lil landscaping, and now Freshkills Park is springing up from the debris. Another heartwarming tale of trash to treasure.
  • You know what’s bullsh*t? The elitism in birdwatching. People come to the park and get all jazzed when they glimpse one lousy hawk. Meanwhile us Pigeonz are out here day in, day out, on full display for y’all and no one gives a rat’s ass. What’s up with that? We’re on call 24/7 here! Show us a little respect!
  • If it were 1988 y’all would be swimming in syringes. No joke. The Syringe Tide. Google it.


  • Born and raised in Staten Italy.
  • For some birds, flying south means the Caribbean, for Empire Staple Pigeonz it means Tottenville. Not quite as hot, but it’s as far south as you can get without leaving the state – and you’re sure as hell not going to catch me crossing the New Jersey border.


  • Whoever named Stapleton knew what was good.
  • Enter the 36 Chambers!


Lower East Side

  • Yo Orchard Street. 2005. We made history, man. Put the Pigeon on the map. Gained global recognition. World Renowned. Respect All. Fear None.
  • Something’s always happening in Seward Park. The food is trash though. Literally. Syringes, joints, used condoms… Deadly.
  • You know who you’re talkin’ to? The Mayor of LES, that’s who.


  • Nah man I never fly above 14th Street. Why would I? You’ve got it all right here.
  • Used to nest just above Landmark Diner. Can’t find a space like that in the city anymore. Huge space, great trash to dig through downstairs. Those were the days.
  • My great-grandfather’s great grandfather had an artist’s loft over on Crosby in the ‘80s. The creative genes run in the family. You can see my work around town; I’m currently working on a series of public installations where I use self-made organic materials to splatter statues and park benches.


  • Spent a lot of time in Chinatown in my youth. The genesis of it all. Cruising, picking fights with the street rats, scouring for abandoned dumplings.
  • When times are tough I like to head over to Bayard to remind myself how good I have it. Those sorry ducks hanging in the window, cured, roasted, and glazed, ogled by tourists. This city might chew me up and spit me out but only figuratively, unlike these quacks.
  • Day in, day out, I’m dodging tourists scooping up knock-off handbags and cheap I <3 NY tees. They think they’re getting it all, living the big city dream, but real New Yorkers see through the lies.
  • There’s something so beautiful about the orange glow of the lights on the fruit stands on Canal St at night. Lush with lychee, durian, and rambutan, their hard exteriors protecting the tender fruit inside – just like the guarded New Yorkers who fill these streets.



  • Yeah, I just graduated with a BFA in Illustration and working on my DJ career too though. I’m out here for the nightlife. Some people calling me an owl with the hours I’m keeping.
  • Been perching under the Myrtle-Wyckoff stop, watching people come and go, thinking we’re not so different – bobbing through the streets, grinding day in and day out, hustling to survive.
  • Here’s my question for the kids – what’s up with chasing pigeons?? The other day my flock are on our lunch break, settling in with a nice pile of sunflower seeds and BOOM outta nowhere three little jerks run up on us, ruining a perfectly nice afternoon. What happened to manners? What happened to common decency!


  • I’ve been vegan for 3 years now. Williamsburg’s been great for my diet. The mecca for all things organic, locally sourced, and gluten free. I’m flying faster and my feathers never looked better.
  • I usually wake up with the sun, fly over to McCarren Park, check in with the flock. See what we’re workin’ with for breakfast, then spend the rest of the day cruisin, hoping to score some good eats.
  • Commuting into the city is no sweat. Straight shoot right over the East River. No rush hour traffic, no crowded L train, no delays. Total freedom.


  • Moved out here for the space. Lookin for that extra room to spread my wings. CIty’s calling though, and the flight in isn’t too quick.
  • Sunday mornings in Herbert Von King Park, you know you’re gonna score some good bites. The Saturday bbqs go late into the night and in their wake they leave a bounty including my personal favorite…fried chicken wings. What can I say, it’s a bird eat bird world.
  • It’s all about the community out here. In Manhattan you’ve got the hustle and bustle, new faces flying in and out, but out here, it’s like family. Old school.



  • You like fish? You’re gonna love it here. We’ve got mad seafood markets. The smell’s no joke though…
  • Queens, home of the Cemetery Belt. Manhattan might be the heart of the city that never sleeps but when it’s time to close your eyes for the last time y’all dead ass are dying to get in over here.
  • No shade to Chinatown but if you’re looking for the best dim sum in NYC, it’s Flushing all the way, baby. Shrimp dumplings? Done. Pork buns? We got it. Steamed rice rolls? Easy. Don’t waste your time in Manhattan.
  • Ah man, I flew around the world three times today. No joke. Yeah. Over in Flushing Meadows. Check it. I’m a real globe trotter.


  • Oh, Sunnyside. Met my first love in Sunnyside. To be a young squab in love…
  • Last night the flock hit up Sunnyside Yard and tagged some trains. We always say, real artistry comes from within. Those kids with their little cans of spray paint don’t have sh!t on us… But boy do we have it on them.
  • “Sunnyside up” becomes oddly sinister when it involves your offspring.


  • You want kebabs? You want a lil gutter tzatziki with that kebab? Get yourself to Astoria or forgettaboutit.
  • So there’s this kit that hangs out in the sculpture park over on the water and they’re always squakin things like, “The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing” and “The unexamined life is not worth living.” And then they just fly off. Who are these birdbrains? What are they getting off on??
  • I’ve got friends from all over out here. Mexico, China, Tibet, Greece, Africa, Italy, Morocco… Everyone flew in from somewhere else, now we’re all flocking together here.