Yup... here's the culprit right here.
http://hotrod-302.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d1x8fjx
He was being difficult and tore my pectoral muscle when I was trying to get him put to bed! Mean little squab.

Okay, so it wasn't HIM who did it. In the mornings I go into the next room, uncover the goodfeathers, and carry them in the cage into here. At night before bed I carry them back out and cover them up. I'd let them stay here all the time but they squabble all the night for "The good spot on the perches" which is anywhere the other is perched. (I think the male wants to cuddle and she doesn't.)
So I lift the cage and it's stand and start carrying the two squeeky squabs... and it felt like a rubber band snapping in my chest...
gotta put the little squab on a diet. No more doritos for Birdie!