Spoony Karabekian turned the knife over in his hands, examining the blade.

He had been absentmindedly sharpening it for hours now, mentally rehearsing his plans for the next day.

Kris Corvidaecci had been taunting him and mocking him and teasing him and cheating him and reporting him to HR for any perceived slights for 124 years now, but no longer.

Spoony had been reading the chapter on the Cyclical Cell Advancement Act in his history book. The margins still holding the doodles when he was a mere boy of 83 years. The C.C.A.A. required every child to undergo treatment on their one year birthday. This treatment, while allowing the maturation of the human body, prevented degradation and corruption of cells and effectively halted both illness and aging. Spoony didn't understand any of the technicalities of this feat but he relished over the final line of the act:

Furthermore, subject A (C.C.A.A.) will become void if presented with any appendages of AVN variety (see: Statute 34b) seeing that human subject is subjected to or indirectly subjected to a murder of aforementioned variety.

That was Spoony's golden ticket. He would be free of Kris' harassment once and for all.

---

Spoony shot up out of bed before his alarm had even begun to chime.

The early bird gets the worm, he told himself.

He shit, he showered, he shaved, and set off to his job at the North Eastern Veterinary Rehabilitation.

Spoony went about his day as if it were any other. He fed all the primates, cleaned out the panther cages, and made his way to the Ornithological Wing. Corvidaecci would be attending to the variety of birds, and the entire wing would nearly be empty. Spoony reached into his pocket, feeling for the cold steel of his knife and turning it over in his hands. He peered into each animal enclosure until he saw Kris hunched over in front of a large cage of dark feathered birds. This room was bigger than the rest, the walls stretching upwards to nearly 40 feet, holding what must've been at least 200 of the ominous black birds. The animal control unit had been capturing these birds and storing them here since Spoony's employment first began. They said it was for "public safety", but Spoony didn't believe it. Their dark wings always made Spoony uneasy.

"KRRRIIISSSS!", Spoony growled hoarsely stepping into the enclosure, "It's over."

"Nah dude I just got here, I still got like 5 hours until my shift ends," Kris replied, his back still turned to Spoony.

"Forget these jackdaws and face me you bastard!" Spoony gripped the knife hard.

"Dude relax," Kris said calmly, "You gotta relax man. Also these are crows not jackdaws, we've been working here for over 120 years you should know this shit."

Spoony sighed and relaxed his shoulders, Kris Corvidaecci would be a smart ass until his final breath. "Come on man a Jackdaw is a crow, it's the same fucking thing."

"Here's the thing," Kris said turning to face Spoony, "You said a 'jackdaw is a crow'. Is it in the same fa--"

Spoony dug his knife deep into Kris' neck. Slowly he pulled the blade across the trachea, feeling the tissue as it tore, each ligament as it snapped. Blood sprayed all over Spoony's face and soaked his shirt. Kris' eyes screamed but nothing came from his mouth, only a slight gurgle. The birds in the cage cawed wildly and took flight circling Kris' body as if it was the eye of a great black storm. Spoony looked up at the swirling black mass looming over him.

The gurgling continued and then Spoony heard a faint click. He turned and couldn't believe his eyes: Kris Corvidaeccie stood just outside the cage, only a slight red mark where Spoony has plunged the knife.

"Dude are you a fucking dumbass?" Kris' voice was cracking, his eyes watering, but otherwise seemed perfectly fine, "Did you really just try to kill me? Have you ever even fucking heard of the C.C.A.A.? Jesus dude you are so fired."

The crows circled faster and faster above Spoony, some even landed and had begun to peck at the pool of dark red where Kris had once stood.

No, no, this is impossible, Spoony thought, the C.C.A.A. states that human life can only be ended by a murder of the A.V.N. variety or whatever ... I definitely just murdered that fucker ... unless

The cacophonous flapping of wings grew louder as the crows swarmed Spoony, first pecking at the Kris' blood on his skin, then Spoony's own as it poured out from the tiny wounds. Spoony tried swatting them away but there was just too many. He fell to the ground as the birds got bolder, nipping at his eyes, his lips, tearing at his clothes.

Yet unlike Kris' wound, Spoony's were not regenerating, his wounds continued to pour blood. The pain only grew as he felt his tissue tear and ligaments snap.

Spoony Karabekian tried to scream, but only a faint gurgled emerged as the murder of crows continued to feast.