Marcel, Plagued by Birds

        Marcel had grown used to the birds. In fact, they'd become integrated into his act. He'd keep bits of popcorn up his sleeves to tease them with, and he could count on them for endless tricks. They might collide in mid-air, fighting over a kernel, or squawk and twitter excitedly as he danced. They would animate the pecking tap-tap-tap of his shoes with wing-flutters and floating feathers. And all was good, and the laughs were golden, and the few kernels he sparsed out to them were enough.
        But one day, while performing a tap dance, Marcel felt their talons digging more earnestly into his pouffed sleeves, as if he was only made of popcorn underneath, and the squeaks became desperate (he was sure they were saying popCORN!!.. POPcorn!) and their beaks pulled frantically upon his hair as if they believed it could be unraveled, thread by thread, and popcorn would burst out and feed the whole flock of them, forever.
        Marcel kept calm at first and maintained his steps, carefully, as if balancing the birds would stave off their hunger. But soon the tapping became more frantic, finally exploding in chaos, without rhythm - pop-pop-POP-POpPOPpOP! His motions could not be contained! There was no longer order! And as he danced wildly, the birds pulled upon his billowing, expanding robes, and Marcel himself began to doubt whether or not there was anything beneath them but popping corn.