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.
Thi stori goze that this persin – mayb a burd, mayb not – is a contaminint from thi kript’s nasti ole nethir reejins, a vyris cum 2 corupt evin more levils, which is qwite a thot & mite evin b a bit worryin juss in case it woz me, onli not evry1 seems 2 bleev this bit ov thi roomir coz its rekind that thi stori cums from thi palas & thi king & thi consisterians r behind it & thay can almost b garanteed not 2 tel thi trooth.
Sum flox rekin its oll 2 do wif thi approachin enkroachin; they fink thi kaotic levils ov thi kript ½ sumhow woken up 2 thi fact that rings cude eventjulie get a bit hazardis even 4 them.
U c, evrybody’s assoomed that thi kript’s kaotic levils qwite liked thi idear ov thi enkroachmint; sumthin that ushird in a new ice age (@ thi veri leest) & cut off thi sunlite & kild off praktikly thi hole planitiry ecosfere & juss jenerili gaiv hoomins & byological stuf a hard time sounded rite up thi kript’s tree thang-u-veri-mutch, but now that it lukes like thi enkroachmint mite b evin moar seryis than that & possibly fretin thi existins ov thi sun, thi planit, thi cassil & thi kript, well thi beests ov thi kaotic zones ½ fynaly sat up & took notis & fings ½ been stirin evir sins.
Y it shood b happenin in thi relm ov thi birdz spesifikly is a good qwestyin but thare u r; not much point tryin 2 figir out thi kript.
Xactly whot is goin on apart from thi fact that thare lookin 4 sumbodi isnt 2 cleer Ither, thers 2 meny conflickin roomirs (& nway this is ol bein tranmitd by Dartlin, who is a deer litl bird but wude not evin get a oneribil menshin if they woz givin out prizes 4 conversayshinil coherince) but thi poynt ov it ol is that basikly thers big doo-doo flyin aroun & ol thi flox is nervis & a bit histerikl & enybody whos a bit diffrent is bein sot out, roundid up, interogatid & taken away. Ol ov which mite sound familyir 2 eny studints ov history & juss goze 2 sho that sum fings nevir chainj, leest not when theez pluckin hoomins desined thi orijinil sistim.
So thare u r Mr Bathcule, ithnt it ol tewwibwy, tewwibwy interethtin ?
O its inarestin ol rite, Dartlin, ole chum.
I think tho 2 – o look, i think i juss thaw a flee on yoor leg thare; may I preen u?
I feel like sayin, U shure its a flee not a ant? coz I stil think tendirly ov poor litl lost Ergates now & agen, but I juss sez, Preen away, yung Dartlin.
Dartlin peks roun thi fethery top ov my left leg & eventjulie crunches on a flee.
Yum. Thank u. Wel enway, i wonder whot on erth can b goin on? Who do u think they ah lookin 4? Do u think it cood akchooly b 1 ov uth birdth? I dont think tho, do u?
Probly not.
O, ith not u, ith it? Tee-hee. Tee-hee-hee-hee.
I doan fink so. I juss a poor blindid ole hok.
Well I no that, thilly, tho u r a very feerth old hok, & gettin less blind ol thi time. I woth jutht kiddin. O luke anuthi thee-gull. Or ith it? Lookth moar like a albino cro, akchooly. Well, i cant thtand awound hea ol day chattin with u; i ½ 2 fly, Dartlin sez, & hops down off thi perch. Ith ther anythin i can get u, Mr Bathcule?
No, Dartlin, am gettin bettir ol thi time, fanks. Juss u keep yoo eers opin tho; I like heerin about ol this stuf.
My pwezhir. Thure i cant get u somthin 2 eet, perhapth?
No, am fine.
Vewy well.
Dartlin hops 2wards thi edje ov thi box lukin out ovir thi dark canyin. It preens itsself a bit, then balansis on thi edje, lukes roun 2 say, Well, bye then… but iss litl voyce sorta trailz off, & it lukes bak roun 2 thi outside & then it stars shiverin & it jumps bak & almost falls ovir & keeps jumpin bak until iss underneef mi perch.
Dartlin! I shout. Whas thi mattir? Whot is it? & I luke down @ thi litl fellir & hees juss pressd bak agenst thi reer ov thi box & qwiverin wif frite, hiz tiny Is buljin & starin & not seein me, & meenwhile thers movemint & thi soun ov flutirn wings outside thi box & sum whisperd sqwawks. A cupil ov larje dark shapes flit past thi entrinse 2 thi box.
Dartlin shaiks like thi poor littl buggurs ½in his own pryvit erfqwake.
He lukes @ me & wails, Feerth, Mr Bathcule! Feerth! & then juss keels ovir on2 thi flor ov thi box, his Is stil opin.
Dartlin! I sez, not shoutin, but I doan fink this sparo’s goan 2 b doin no more spyin nor flyin. I can c his flees gettin redy 2 move out ov his scrawny littl bod, & thas always thi wurst ov sines.
I luke up agen & thers more movemint & a rustlin sound from outside & then suddinly thi noys ov uge grate wings flappin.
A crow pops itz hed roun thi side ov thi box.
It lukes @ me wif 1 beedy blak glintin I & croaks,
Yeh thass im, muss b im.
It disapeers b 4 I can say anyfin.
Then there’s a face @ thi entrins 2 thi box, & I cant beleve it; its a hoomin face, a hoomin hed but its bin flayed, iss got no skin on it @ ol & its ol red with blud & u can c tendons & mussils & its Is r starin out wif no lids neethir but iss also got thi biggist smile u evir seen & its held in thi claws ov sum huge bird I cant c apart from its talons & lower legs; thi talons r holdin thi hed by thi eers & thi hed opins its mouf & starts makin this weerd noise, incredibly loud & gutteril & its tung comes out, but iss not a ordinary tung iss far 2 long 4 a start & iss flapin & lashin & thi hed’s makin this screemin noise & thi tung is snakin rite @ me & iss got hooks & claws @ thi end ov it & thi tung flix 2wards me & I jump bakwards off thi perch & land almost on top ov Dartlin’s body & thi tung is snappin bak & 4th ovir thi top ov thi perch tryin 2 get me & Im peckin & screetchin & tryin 2 get @ it with my talons but its 2 hi up & ol thi while this hoarse cacofoni ov noise is ringin in ma eers & @ furst I think its screemin Gimme gimme gimme but it isnt, iss moar like Gididibididibididigididigigigibididigibibibi ol run 2gether like that like iss a mashine gun or sumthin & thi tung lashiz bak roun thi top ov thi perch & down & now iss cummin strait 4 me & I slash @ it wif mi talons but it twists & grabs my rite wing & starts 2 pool & am scretchin & iss goin gididibibibigigigibigigigibibigigi & am tryin 2 hold on2 thi perch wif 1 talon & scratch thi tung wif thi othir & peck @ it 2 & its tearin ma wing off, brakin it & it snaps & it pools off a hole buncha fevirs & thi orribil face gets a moufful ov those & I hop bak agen 2 thi reer ov thi box, flappin & screetchin & trailin mi broken wing; thi tung fliks bak in & I kik littl Dartlin’s body @ it & thi tung raps tite round it & pulls it bak but throws it away when it gets it outside & iss still hammerin away wif this gigigibididibibibigigigi stuf fillin mi eers & am juss about 2 die ov frite as thi tung cums snappin 2wards mi face when it goze gididibibibibibibigididibigiBasculefastawake!