A Note on the Bird Stories

Just thought I'd point out, I took a few privledges with my story. While they're both true stories of what has happened to me and the birds lately, they didn't happen on the same day, and I wasn't so..... you know what I mean. I wasn't so girly as I made myself out to be. It just seemed more funny that way.... So yeah.
I hope you enjoyed it. =}

Bird Troubles... A Comical Horror by Yours Truly, Part II

Lisa closed the door of the turkeys side of the coop and leaning against it, sighed with relief. That was close.
She didn't usually have to do this, but Dad just had to be sick today didn't he...
Shaking her head to clear her mind of visions of smelly darkness and waving pink heads, she turned to the chickens door.
With what courage had not been pecked out of her by the killer turkeys Lisa flipped the latch and flung open the door.
30 pairs of eyes, shining white in the light of the sun, glared at her from the darkness within, and an ominous "Brrrrt Brrt Brrt Brrrt" came from within.
Cautiously Lisa pulled herself through the small doorway, shutting the door most of the way behind her. Brown and gray chickens were everywhere, their beady eyes staring suspiciously. Slowly, her hopes of co-operation rising, Lisa moved to the bag of food in the corner and put several handfuls into the food container. Overjoyed at the lack of hostility Lisa was just about to exit the coop when she noticed chicken's water container. There was no water in it.
"Grrrrreat."
Seizing the big container, Lisa opened the door and was on the brink of jumping out when she saw them.
The air was full of feathers as crazed chickens lept for their water container, pecking frantically at the dirty build up where water should have been. Lisa let herself out, one hand on the container, trying to pull it out with her. The chickens were stampeding the water container now, and as it stood on the edge of the door, that meant a break out was close at hand.
"No. NO, no, no!" Lisa yelled, shoving masses of feathery creatures back through the door with one hand and trying to drag the water container out further. With flashing eyes, the birds swarmed; a tidle wave of poultry was building around the door.
With one last desperate yank the water container was free. The birds were struggling madly, each trying to get out the door before its fellows. In the havic Lisa just managed to close the door, shoving each crazed bird that had stuck out its head back into the coop.
It was almost a relief to have a respite in which to fill the water container. At the nearest water spout Lisa washed away the dirt and chicken... doo... that coated the bottom of the container and filled it with water through the top. With a sinking heart, Lisa put the lid back on top and turned to drag the container back... She could hardly move it.
Filled with water it was more than twice as heavy as before. With a huge effort, she dragged it (leaving furrows in the dirt) from the pump to the coop. Taking a moment to slop some water out first, Lisa undid the latch on the chicken's door and pushed it open an inch. Anxious chicken eyes watched as she heaved the water container onto the ledge and into the doorway.
The hurricane of feathers seemed magnetically attracted to the water. With a cacophany of "CockadoooodleDOOOO!"s and "brrt BRRT Brrrt Brrt!"s the chickens began soaking up the water. There were so many birds plastered to the water container Lisa was worried about pushing it any further into the Chicken coop for fear of squashing one of them.
With a howl that sent a third of the birds flying backwards a few inches, she withdrew a finger that had just been pecked by a desperate chicken.
Seizing the oppertunity she shoved the water container into the coop and slammed the door shut.
Waving the injured finger about in agony she screeched "Darn Birds!!!" And set off for the house.

The End

P.S.
Lisa, incidentally, was saved any further terrifying trips to the coop by contracting whatever her dad had.

Bird Troubles... A Comical Horror by Yours Truly, Part I

It was just a normal feeding job...
Dad normally fed the Chickens and Turkeys, unless he wasn't home, or he was sick- which didn't happen very often. But today, he had been unfortunate enough to have some kind of flu. Or maybe he was fortunate enough to have the flu, because it meant that Lisa had to feed the birds.
"Remember to take the scraps." Her mother told her as she prepared to meet her doom.
"Right."
And so, with a bowl of cucumber peelings and cantalope rinds, a half eaten apple and some moldy bread in her hands, she set off.
As she walked across the driveway and down the dirt path to the coop she sang, "I'm off to feed the turkeys, those ugly old turkeys of oz!" and, " Feed the birds, two-million-pence a bag," from the Wizard of Oz and Mary Poppins respectively. Now if you're thinking, 'I don't remember any turkeys in Oz, just flying monkeys', or 'I thought the kid in Mary Poppins had tupence," then you are right. Lisa just happens to be one of those insane people who make up their own lyrics to normal songs.
Back to our story. Arriving at the coop Lisa could hear the incessant cockadoodledoooo! coming from one side and obnoxious gobbling sounds from the other side. Sighing, she undid the latch to the turkeys door.
Bald pink heads swayed in the doorway. "Move!" Lisa said sharply, climbing through the door and quickly shutting it all but a quarter of an inch behind her. In the half light that came through the chicken-wired windows her unadjusted eyes could only just make out the large, black, feathery bodies and long scrawny pink necks and heads of the uglys birds. Black eyes glinted in their wrinkly bird faces and the gobbling increased. Slowly, they began to advance, heads waving.
"Back off!" Lisa said loudly, waving her hands. The front two turkeys dodged sideways and another two took their place, these two bigger and more confident.
"Shoo!" The turkeys took no notice, their slow advance continued. Lisa backed slowly away from the door, around the water dish, toward the corner of the coop and the bags of feed that were now her only hope of escape. The buzz of hundreds of flies filled the air and The March of the Turkeys came on after her. The black eyes were shining with a feverish, hungry, killer turkey glow.
Finally, Lisa saw out of the corner of her eyes the feed bag, covered in feathers and... less disirable turkey leavings. Making faces, she grabbed the very edge of the bag and shook off the... stuff... Then hurriedly stuffed her hand deep into the bag. Almost before it could re-emerge with a handful of the yellow powdery stuff the turkeys lived off of, they were there. Lisa could feel a large rubbery clawed turkey foot on top of her own flip-flop-clad foot. The gobbles were suddenly ravenous and seemingly elephant-trumpet loud.
Turkeys were surrounding her, rubbery feet clawing at jeancovered legs, trying to climb her, trying to reach the food. Screeching, Lisa flung the yellow powder in the direction of the food tray.
It worked.
The feverish eyes followed the foods flight and moments later it was no longer to be seen, completley hidden behind black feathers.
Sighing with relief, Lisa dumped a few more handfuls of yellow into the midst of the bobbing pink heads and hurried back to the door and out into the sunlight.