Most people don't understand that birds have very rough lives. Such was the plight of one little crow who dwelled in Aperture Science.
One upon a time there was bird. For convenience's sake, we'll call him Mr. Birdie. Anyways, Mr. Birdie was following his daily routine as usual because that was the only thing his little birdbrain could remember. Wake up, fly around (because he could), find food, go to sleep, and repeat. Some days, when he got really excited he would go around pecking on all the neat stuff thrown around his habitat.
And today, Mr. Birdie had resolved to make this the most exciting day EVER!
He had done all the exciting things a bird should do. He flew around in circles, flew up and down, and flew all through his habitat. All the other birds (well… all three of them) knew this was his territory. Or at least, he thought it was. Mr. Birdie had a hard time keeping track of things.
But as he flew around, Mr. Birdie felt exceptionally confused today. Why was everything so out of place? He had woken up and everything was as it should be but then his territory started moving around! His precious nest was gone, his stash of food was gone, everything he'd known and loved was gone. Either one of two things had happened: the other three birds had overthrown his territory in a fit of defiance… or he had just gotten lost again.
Yes, Mr. Birdie was quite confused today. And he'd lost his nest. His little bird brain racked over endless solutions for this problem. Most of them were very, very stupid. But Mr. Birdie wasn't going to let that deter him! After spending a grand total of seven minutes thinking of solutions, he was ready to give up. Then he found the answer to his problem.
Of course! He would make a new nest! So Mr. Birdie diligently went about gathering sticks and bullet shells and feathers and even a video camera! Once he made his nest, that would show the other birds who was the dominant bird! But it had to be the perfect nest; how else could Mr. Birdie show his superiority? And there was something missing… but what?
Mr. Birdie flew around his now changed habitat in a complete quandary. What could possibly serve as the crowning addition to his new nest? He flew through the foliage and past the not-foliage searching for an answer. And in doing so, he found something of immeasurable value.
A metal ball lay next to a plant. Mr. Birdie was rather fascinated by this ball. He'd never seen something so perfectly shaped. Sure, it was a little cracked here and there but Mr. Birdie couldn't afford to be picky. It was round, durable, but most importantly, it was shiny.
Mr. Birdie decided right then and there this would serve as his new nest. But first he'd have to clean out an junk inside it; his nest would be perfect. So he did his best to poke around the little ball's shell, knocking wire and framework about like it wasn't important technology.
So when the blue shiny thingy lit up, Mr. Birdie jumped back in surprise.
"DON'T KILL ME DON'T KILL ME DON'T- Oi! A bird!"
Did the little ball just talk? In all his 2 and half years of life, Mr. Birdie had never seen part of his nest talk. He'd never seen anything talk actually but that was beside the point! This mysterious language the ball spoke struck Mr. Birdie odd. In fact, this whole situation struck him as odd. The sudden appearance of a shiny, talking metal ball, the strange language he spoke, his utter distress… but that could only mean one thing.
This metal ball could be the Bird God.
In his very short lifespan, even Mr. Birdie was civilized enough to know about the Bird God. The legend had been passed down from bird to bird via much cawing and pecking. Don't bother asking how this equaled communication; no one knows the mysterious ways of birds. Anyways, they told of a mysterious entity in the shape of a ball that would come from the sky. He would then speak to the one special bird that deserved to be in his presence and said bird would assist him in the conflict that had left him on this forsaken Earth.
Mr. Birdie's tiny heart fluttered in excitement. Could he really be the one chosen to assist the Bird God in his plight?
However, was it really the Bird God? After all, Mr. Birdie was an intelligent bird! He couldn't just go around picking up shiny metal balls! They could be only mere imitations of the Bird God! And if they were pretending Mr. Birdie would have to dispose of these fakers via pecking. Lots of pecking.
Mr. Birdie hopped onto the metal ball. He would have to thoroughly examine this ambiguous Bird God to see if he was the long-awaited light of hope he'd been looking for. Meanwhile, said ball darted his optic around and up at Mr. Birdie, clearly knowing what was going on as much as Mr. Birdie did.
"Uh… tweet tweet?"
Mr. Birdie did not speak "tweet tweet". Perhaps this wasn't the sought after Bird God after all… oh well! He'd just make a nest out of it! Mr. Birdie turned around to gather more materials for his new nest.
"NO! Don't leave me here! Tweet! Tweet! TWEET!" the little ball frantically cried. Mr. Birdie had never seen a ball roll all around the floor by itself! Then again he'd never seen a ball before…
Mr. Birdie hopped back over to the talking ball.
"Oi! You came back! Tweet!" the little ball shouted gleefully. Mr. Birdie was irritated at the strange noises the ball made. Maybe if he pecked at it would stop.
"OW! What was that for? OW! Stop it! Tweet tweet!"
Mr. Birdie cawed his annoyance back to the ball. Clearly he didn't realize that things were getting lost in translation. Why couldn't the Bird God understand that Mr. Birdie was only trying to show his utter devotion to him by using him as a shrine? Perhaps the Bird God was confused. Why else would he have been cast down upon this earth for any other purpose than to show the avian world of his presence?
Or maybe Mr. Birdie was just over thinking things. And maybe this wasn't really the Bird God. Sad and dejected, Mr. Birdie slowly hopped away.
"Listen! Tweet tweet! Bird! I need your help!" The ball looked like it was trying to lift itself off the ground. But keep in mind, Mr. Birdie could not speak English, let alone… speak. So staring at the funny metal ball he only grew increasingly bamboozled… Oh.
Of course! The Bird God wanted to fly.
Now Mr. Birdie knew why he had been destined to have this encounter with the Bird God! This was just like in the prophecy! By now Mr. Birdie had forgotten about nests (his bird brain could only remember so much) and focused on the thing he had been destined to do: help the metal ball entity of the Bird God.
"Oh, you came back." The Bird God said, a little surprised. "Huh. Didn't expect that to work… HEY! WHERE ARE YOU GOING? STOP! TWEET! TWEET!"
Because of the Bird God's obvious amount of massive power, Mr. Birdie had a very hard time lifting him up with nothing but his little bird feet. But he was determined to fill out the Bird God's one request (if that was his request… Mr. Birdie wasn't sure). So with every ounce of strength he flew up until the Bird God was off the ground.
Mr. Birdie had done it! The Bird God was flying!
"Oh nonononononono" The Bird God squeezed his optic shut. "I'm going to die I just know it! Okay, if I'm going to die I'm sorry for that time I wandered into the neurotoxin room and I'm sorry I accidentally turned her on and I'm sorry I EVER left my management rail and I'm sorry… wait a minute. I am not dead!"
The Bird God turned his optic up to the approaching management rail. Maybe Mr. Birdie wasn't quite as unintelligent as he'd assumed. In fact, maybe he knew exactly what he was doing! The Bird God quivered with excitement; this was his second chance! He could save the facility and the brain damaged test subject and finally show her he wasn't such a moron!
"We're so close, just a bit higher, tweet!" The Bird God wanted to go down ? Okay… "NO! NO! TWEET! GO BACK! GO BACK!" And so they went up again.
By now, Mr. Birdie was getting tired. Unlike the Bird God, he didn't have an immeasurable amount of strength and each flap of his wings he got more fatigued. But he had to satisfy the Bird God; Mr. Birdie had no idea if there was a Bird Hell but he was not going there!
"You're so close, tweet tweet! If I can get on that management rail I promise I'll take you with me when we escape! If I can even find you!" the Bird God chirped excitedly. Of course Mr. Birdie had no idea what he was prattling on about but he liked to think he was showering praises and blessings of Mr. Birdie's awesomeness upon him.
"And then we can run off into the sunset like in- oi, you did it mate!" the Bird God said. From what he sounded like, Mr. Birdie could tell the Bird God was grateful. He'd even managed to start flying on his own (with the help of a management rail, not that Mr. Birdie noticed). "I'm not dead!"
Mr. Birdie was happy the Bird God was happy and cawed his happiness and flapped his wings in joy. The Bird God looked back at the little crow.
"Oh right… I suppose you want me to go back on that promise about helping you escape… eh heh… Well… if she hasn't killed us and we have shut her down… then I will! But for now just stay here and I'll come back! Possibly! If I'm not dead again!"
The words ran through Mr. Birdie's head as "Aweifjspdogixbdieijghwodkso!"
And in just a moment, the Bird God had zoomed away into the recesses of Aperture Science aka Mr. Birdie's territory. He probably should have told the Bird God to watch out for the bird eggs in another crow's habitat but oh well! He was sure the Bird God's awe-inspiring, omniscient powers would keep him exempt from the wrath of the angry crow.
Satisfied he had helped the Bird God in every way he possibly could, Mr. Birdie flew off into the depths of Aperture to continue building his nest. Little did he know that said Bird God would soon become God of Aperture and cause living hell. But let's not spoil that.
And so Mr. Birdie lived happily ever after. Until GLaDOS turned on the neurotoxin. The end.
A/N: ...Yep. That's exactly what happened. I guess I always wanted to know how exactly Wheatley got back on his management rail and they kind of mentioned birds in Portal 2 so this came up!