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Makes u sik.  Din evin ½ thi decincy 2 do it slo; one minit theyr flyin mashines is made from paper & spit, then 1 evilushinary blink ov thi i & thi bastirds is playin golf on thi moon!

O, thers stil birdz around olrite but thers a dam site fewr ov them & a lot ov what u wood fink is birds iznt; itz chimerics, or machines, & even if it is thi case that whot looks like a bird is a bird if its a big one its probably not evin got its hed 2 itself but its been taken over by a ded persin.  Can't evin ½ peece in yoor own bonce.  Birdz av coped wiv tics & flees & lice ol ther evilushinary life but theez dam hoomins r wurse & they get evryware!

Am flapin & skwokin & wokin about ma perch & wishin Mr Zoliparia thi hoomin wude hury up & wake me coz thi moar I think about peepil thi less I like them & thi moar I like bein a bird.

Been almos a week now; whatz keepin thi man?  Mi own folt 4 entrustin mi saifty 2 a old geezir.  Thats thi trubl wif old persins; slo reactshins.  Probly dropt thi pen I askt him 2 catch & is evin now scrabblin about on thi flor 4 it, forgetin thi importint thing is 2 wake me, not get thi bleedin pen.  But it must ½ been a minit in reel time by now; shurely evin a old persin cant take that long 2 luke 4 a bleedin pen 4 gooniss sakes.

Howma goan wake up?  Am blo thi levil whare u get askd in yoor sleep otomaticly & mi own wake-up code woz taikin from me by that big bastardin bird whot slapt me down heer in thi furst place & evin tho Ive rimemberd it sinse it juss dozen seem 2 b wurkin no moare.

Mi goos, like they say, may wel b cookd.

Am on a perch in a sorta litl dark caiv.

If u can imagine a jiant black brain in a evin biggr dark space, & then zoom in on thi brain & go down inamungst its corugayshins & foldz & c that thi walls ov evry fold is made out ov zillions ov litl boxes wif a perch in it, well, thatz whot this bit ov bird-space is like, in thi kript.

Mi litl box lukes out on2 a uge hangin dark spaice oll fild with shades & thi okzhinal passin bird flappin sloly past (we oll flap slo — thi pretend graviti is less heer).  Wel, am sayin its all dark but maybe it iznt realy, maybe thats juss me coz truth 2 tel Iv not been very wel; in fact Im ½ blind, but thats betr than whot I woz a cupl ov days ago, which woz ½ ded.

Therz a dainti flutr ov wings @ thi entranse 2 mi box, & in cums litl Dartlin, whos thi frend Iv made heer.

Ullo, Dartlin, howzit goin?

Fine, Mr Bathcule.  I bin tewibwy bizzy, u no; tewibwy bizzy bird i been.  I flu thwu 2 thi paliment ov thi cwows & pikd up sum gothip, wood u like 2 here it?

Dartlin is my spy, sort ov.  When I imagind miself in heer in thi furst place, bak in Mr Zoliparia's pad, I juss naturily sumhow took on thi apperince ov a hok, which is whot I stil am now.  Dartlins a sparo, so in feery we shood b rapter & prey respectivly, but it dozen actule work that way here, not in this bit nway.

Dartlin foun me on thi flor heer.  Id juss got bak from thi levil beneeth whare thi reel fun in thi kript starts & I woz in a sory state, let me tel u.

Thi furst cupl ov days wer thi wurst.  When thi big burd slapt me down thru all them levils I thot mi time woz up; I meen, I new Id wake up in thi Iball ov thi septentrynal gargoil Rosbrith sooner or later, but I thot I woz goin 2 die in heer, & thats a helluva fing 2 take back 2 yoor waitin mind; scar u 4 life, that can.

Iss ver difficult 2 explain what its like when u go that deep in thi kript, but if u can imagine bein in a sno storm, flyin in a fik snostorm only thi sno is multi-colurd & sum ov it seems 2 b cumin @ u from evry angil (& each sno-flake seems 2 sing & hum & sizil & hold littl flashin images & hints ov faces in it & as they go past u heer snatchiz ov speech or music or u feel a emoshin or fink ov a idear or consept or seem 2 remembir sumfink) & if 1 ov thi sno-flakes hits u in thi I u r suddenly in sumbudy elses dreem & its a effort 2 remember who thi hel u r, wel if u can imagine xperyencin oll that when u r feelin a bit drunk & disoreyented then thas a bit like whot iss like, cept wurse ov course. & weerder.

I doan actuly remember much about that bit & I doan think I want 2, Ither.  I lernd 2 navigate by thi flavir ov thi surroundin dreemz & graduly sortd sum sens out ov thi gibbersh & tho I got blindid by thi abraidin impact ov ol those sno-flakes & loss thi wordin ov my wake-up code, I fynaly broke bak thru 2 thi darknis & peece & qwiet here, & lay xosted on thi flor amungst lotsa scraggly ded fewirs & solidifyd droppins & thass whare Dartlin foun me.

Heed been terifyd by sumthin & loss thi memry ov how 2 fly & so ended down on thi flor 2, but he could c & so 1nce Id got my strenf bak he got on2 my back between my wings & gided me 2 whare thi sparos gather.  They told him how 2 fly agen but they didn feel cumfterbil ½in a hok around so they foun me this place down here & thass whare Ive been thi last 4 days, gettin mi site back wyle Dartlin flits about makin inkwyries & bein bizy & nozi & gossipin, which is whot sparos like doin nway.

Y I certinly wood like 2 heer whot u herd, litil frend, I tel Dartlin.

Wel, ith tewibwy intiwestin & i hope u doan get fwitened but, tho u r a feerth hok aftir ol & pwobibwy doan get fwitened… o, ithn thith a dark ole place?  I doan like perchin here on thi edje.  May I hop up bethide u?

By ol meens, Dartlin, I sez, shufflin along a bit on my perch.

Thank u.  Now; ah yeth, now i doan wan 2 make u nervith or anthin — like i thay, with u bein feerth i cant imagin u no thi meenin ov thi word — but it wood appeer that therth a bit ov a dithturbinth in thi air — o, it givth me a shiver juth lookin @ thoze big feerth talonth ov yourth — whot woth i thayin? — o yeth, a dithturbinth in thi air, affectin evwybody, neer enuf — u no i think i felt it begin mythelf evin tho i woz down on that hawwibl flor @ thi time with uthir thingth on mi mind — wothint hawwibil down thare?  I hatid it.  Nway, it theemth thi raptorth & carrion-feederth & moatht ethpethyally thi lammergeierth ½ been behavin thtrainjly — o! woth that a theegull jutht thare?  I new a theegull 1nce, hith name woth…

Thas thi trubl wif sparos; they got a veri limitid tenshun span & r inclind 2 go witterin on 4 ages b4 they get 2 thi poynt, always flutterin off @ tanjints & keepin u gessin whot it is thare actuli tokin about.  Iss veri frustratin but u juss ½ 2 b payshint.

Nway, I bettir parafraze or weel b here oil bleedin day listnin 2 this sparo-crap.

Furst, sum ov thi birdz is lookin 4 sumbody & I get a funy feelin it might b yoors truli.  Thi song goes that thers a hunt on 4 sumbodi whoze loose in thi sistim, existin in thi kript &/or thi base-wurld & thers a pryce on ther hed.  Apparintly this persins a furst-born, which fits me.  Fits lots a peepil, u mite say, but apparintly this persins got sumthin a bit difrint about them; they ½ sum peculyarity, sum strainjnis, & thare a signil carryer, carryin a mesidje they mite not evin no they ½.

O I no itz probly not me, but u no how it is; I alwiz felt I woz speshil — juss like evrybodi els — but unlike evrybody els I got this weerd wirin in mi brane so I cant spel rite, juss ½ 2 do evrythin foneticly.  Iss not a problim cos u can put eny old rubish thru practikly anyfin evin a chile's toy computir & get it 2 cum out speld perfictly & gramatisized 2 & evin improvd 2 thi poynt whare yood fink u waz Bill bleedin Shaikspir by thi langwidje.  Nway, u can probly c y I got a bit paranoyd when I furst herd ol this, & it gets wurse.