Status Quo of the Sixth Order

Whizzlebuggled by the determined initiating committee I ran screaming toward the ends of the river Seeking asylum from the flock of the Status Quo of the Sixth Order A robin flying overhead gave me a giggleberry feeling. I deliberated starting my own murder of crows, only we would name it a murder of peacocks, and I would turn into a male as they are the extravagant ones. A school of dippenlily fish offered me their assistance. I did not take them up on it for my precognition kicked in and I realized they had the same agenda as an army of White Supremists. So here I am, debating how to go about starting my family, team or murder of peacocks. First I have to transmogrify into a male for the females are so damned plain.