All characters you recognise belong to terry Pratchett. All others are
mine.
32 magpies sat bemusedly in various trees around a sunny orchard. A bird's mental process is not meant to go beyond the words; 'food....shit....fly...reproduce.' but for some reason 2 words more were imprinted in all of their walnut sized brains. 'AGNES NITT'. Being magpies, they had no concept of names as such, and one, munching on a worm perched cross eyed on his branch attempting to assess if the worm he was eating had any connection to the intrusive syllables. Judging finally that the pink mass of sausage shaped flesh, did, eventually, come under the category of 'food', he righted his gaze and stared around, attempting to find an object that matched his increased vocabulary. It took him by surprise, therefore to find himself with a medium sized pebble wedged into his anal regions. Uttering a loud 'URK', he swivelled round and his newly crossed eyes righted themselves just in time to focus hazily on a cackling figure in black walking away. Hurt, the magpie hobbled painfully back to his nest to tend to his rear.
The sight of the witch, for the other 31 magpies had been watching, aroused other memories in their consciousness. And as 31 brains clubbed together, a greater consciousness was reborn. Vlad was back in control of his body, or, in this case, bodies. On the still June day, a faint sighing swept through the orchard, several fruit dropped from the trees, and beneath one of them, a lucky tramp invented gravity. And shampoo. (Apples, on impact, take quickly to their new, less compact surroundings.)
Vowels and Consonants could be deciphered as the sighing grew louder and the birds quickly flocked to one tree which eminated a dark red. The first magpie peered out of his nest at the radiating plant, but a sudden twinge of pain reminded him that a painful rear, in some cases, can be more important than freak phenomena. Vlad's consciousness worked further into his mantra and the tree began to shake and pulse anti-light. The Magpies shrieked as a shower of octarine burst from every branch. But the spell was wrong. One magpie was missing.
As calm spread once more over the orchard, Vlad dared to look down at his body.
'Oh SHIT!'
Instead of the lithe, lean body he was used to, huge yellow feet rose to meet his gaze.
The last magpie stared out of his nest and promptly passed out.
Perched incongruously atop a small fruit tree was Vlad. Currently reincarnated as a six-foot high magpie.
32 magpies sat bemusedly in various trees around a sunny orchard. A bird's mental process is not meant to go beyond the words; 'food....shit....fly...reproduce.' but for some reason 2 words more were imprinted in all of their walnut sized brains. 'AGNES NITT'. Being magpies, they had no concept of names as such, and one, munching on a worm perched cross eyed on his branch attempting to assess if the worm he was eating had any connection to the intrusive syllables. Judging finally that the pink mass of sausage shaped flesh, did, eventually, come under the category of 'food', he righted his gaze and stared around, attempting to find an object that matched his increased vocabulary. It took him by surprise, therefore to find himself with a medium sized pebble wedged into his anal regions. Uttering a loud 'URK', he swivelled round and his newly crossed eyes righted themselves just in time to focus hazily on a cackling figure in black walking away. Hurt, the magpie hobbled painfully back to his nest to tend to his rear.
The sight of the witch, for the other 31 magpies had been watching, aroused other memories in their consciousness. And as 31 brains clubbed together, a greater consciousness was reborn. Vlad was back in control of his body, or, in this case, bodies. On the still June day, a faint sighing swept through the orchard, several fruit dropped from the trees, and beneath one of them, a lucky tramp invented gravity. And shampoo. (Apples, on impact, take quickly to their new, less compact surroundings.)
Vowels and Consonants could be deciphered as the sighing grew louder and the birds quickly flocked to one tree which eminated a dark red. The first magpie peered out of his nest at the radiating plant, but a sudden twinge of pain reminded him that a painful rear, in some cases, can be more important than freak phenomena. Vlad's consciousness worked further into his mantra and the tree began to shake and pulse anti-light. The Magpies shrieked as a shower of octarine burst from every branch. But the spell was wrong. One magpie was missing.
As calm spread once more over the orchard, Vlad dared to look down at his body.
'Oh SHIT!'
Instead of the lithe, lean body he was used to, huge yellow feet rose to meet his gaze.
The last magpie stared out of his nest and promptly passed out.
Perched incongruously atop a small fruit tree was Vlad. Currently reincarnated as a six-foot high magpie.