What follows is a tale of two different Sunday's but which one, dear reader, is the truth? Those who get it right and that I judge to be 'top donk' will win some of those coveted SBI shares that all the kids are raving about.

Choose wisely and choose once. I maintain the right to be a capricious prick in deciding who and how many win for how long.

I awoke from the land of nod with a distinct feeling of alarm.

Something was wrong. Something was most definitely wrong. But what? I couldn't place it but something was most definitely wrong.

The sun slanted in through the blinds, attempting to pierce the slight hangover fog within my head. I peeled my eyes open and staggered out of bed, heading downstairs toward the warm bosom of my family.

That would make me feel better, wouldn't it?

Morning Daddy!

Yelled the collective spiny organism that was my family.

Broowk.

I croaked back at them.

Wait, what the bloody hell was that? Was that me?

Brooawk?

I skrawked.

What the hell, that I turned into a crow during the night?

I clutched at my throat. It felt like someone had poured burning hot sand down it and then covered it with sticky snotters and phlegm whilst I had slept.

Oh, poor Daddy, has your sore throat actually gotten worse?

The MumBumBoon tilted her head sympathetically at me whilst around her the children raged like a torrent of foamy sea water, breaking things and shouting.

With the greatest effort, I tried to speak again.

Aarghle. Barghle crawaach?

I rasped at her.

One of my eyes at that moment decided to eject a sticky yellow thing over my pupil and I blinked furiously, wet tears cascading down my cheek as if an excited penis had embedded itself in the eye socket above.

Oarrrrrrr.

I said like a lonely wolf denied a toffee apple at the Fair.

The good lady expertly shepherded the seething mass of child fury around her into a coherent ball and headed them off to the kitchen.

Would you like to go back to bed? Maybe you would feel better with some more sleep?

I gave a mute nod and turned to the door to drag my maudlin ill arse back upstairs.

Up yours Sunday.

The Magpie hopped forward. It's head tilted to the side, exposing one black rage-filled eye at me.

I took a corresponding step back and waved the rake in my hand at it in a feeble hungover way.

Git, git away!

I croaked through my achey throat.

Today seemed to be the start of Spring and I had been foisted out into the garden to do chores.

The sun was out and strong, blazing down on my head and shoulders, making my head pound rapidly, like a fat person farting on a leather cushion.

The Magpie made a nasty caw'ing sound and ran/hopped straight toward my foot.

I jumped back then hopped pathetically around trying to keep away from the berserk thief-bird which seemed to have a problem with me raking the lawn.

Git! I mean it!!

Even to me, the sound of my voice was a weedy shrill thing.

The Magpie stopped and regarded me with an old and knowing gaze. It advanced no further.

Ha, stupid bastard bird!

I crowed, convinced I had won this battle of wills between nature and man.

I heard a rustling just beside my head.

Cawwrk?

I jumped higher than I could believe and let out a strangled screech as I turned to see ANOTHER Magpie perched on an ornamental tree beside me.

It fanned its dread black wings out at me and hopped from foot to foot, it's message clear.

I dropped the rake and fled back into the house.

To safety.

ITS OVER!

And astonishingly the answer was indeed number 2!! I was menaced by two Magpies today in the garden and at one point they were going so berserk I came indoors. Well, that might be the tale I told the good lady :OD

5 SBI shares are being purchased for each lucky winner as we speak!

Congrats to -

@acolucky
@cryptoandcoffee
@erikah
@dreemit
@jlufer