Story 179: Reza Shadey and the Magpie Procurement Executive
Okay, snuggle down tight, little ones. Let me tell you a tale about a very cheeky and magnificently fluffy Persian cat who overheard some scientific facts about magpies and immediately decided he had discovered the perfect workforce — and absolutely nobody else agreed.
It was a quiet afternoon in Catford. Mrs Higgins was listening to the radio in the kitchen while sipping her tea. Reza Shadey lounged on the windowsill, half-dozing, when a few phrases drifted through the open window.
"...magpies are among the most intelligent birds in Britain..."
"...they can solve surprisingly complex problems..."
"...and even remember where they've hidden food..."
Reza's emerald eyes snapped open. His magnificent tail twitched once. He shot upright so fast he toppled off the windowsill with a FWUMP!
"Finally!" he whispered from the floor, refusing to acknowledge the fall. "Competent staff! At last — someone who might understand a spreadsheet!"
He leapt onto the patio table, adjusted an imaginary tie, and recited the old rhyme with growing enthusiasm:
"One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy, five for silver, six for gold... seven for a secret never to be told."
He smiled a slow, entrepreneurial smile. "Or, in modern terms: seven for scalable procurement."
He summoned the board immediately. Penelope arrived looking elegant. Ginger Tom arrived looking for biscuits. Tiger arrived by bouncing through a flowerbed and getting a daisy stuck behind his ear.
"Penelope, Chief of Diplomacy. Ginger Tom, Director of Logistics. Tiger, Head of Kinetic Operations."
Tiger vibrated with excitement. "Ooo! Is it chaos?!"
"Operation Magpie Capital", Reza announced grandly. "These corvids possess superior cognitive architecture. No salaries. No annual leave. No performance reviews. No complaints about my leadership! Excellent."
Penelope sighed. "Rezzi, they're wild birds."
"Precisely", Reza replied. "Outsourced talent. Zero HR headaches."
He recruited one particularly bold magpie and named him Magnus — "Mags" for short. Reza did not train him. He negotiated.
"This is not theft", he explained, placing a single Dreamie onto the patio table. "This is distributed resource acquisition. Consultancy fees payable upon delivery of high-value assets."
Mags stared at Reza, tilted his head, and flew off with the treat.
Day One: Mags returned with a shiny bottle cap. Reza placed it on his head like a tiny silver crown. "Executive headwear!"
Day Two: A crisp. Reza framed it as "prototype development."
Day Three: Half a sausage roll. Ginger Tom tried to claim it as "Logistics tax" and got his paw pecked.
"KPIs excellent!" Reza purred. "ROI outstanding! The shareholders will be thrilled!"
Penelope eyed the growing pile of shiny junk. "Rezzi... most of that came from Mr Henderson's bin."
"Mature market sourcing", Reza dismissed with a flick of his tail.
He scaled the operation. More Dreamies were invested. More magpies arrived. Reza watched with pride as his Procurement Division organised itself beautifully — some distracting him with dive-bombs to his fluffy head while others helped themselves to the neighbours' gardens.
"My organisation is scaling organically", Reza declared from atop the garden table, as a magpie used his head as a landing pad. "This is textbook efficiency!"
In reality, the magpies had made a very simple calculation: bring the fluffy cat a piece of rubbish — receive a premium treat!
Soon every morning the flock assembled — twenty, thirty, then forty strong — in perfect, expectant silence on the fence.
Reza beamed. "Excellent attendance at the Daily Strategy Meeting!"
Penelope quietly counted. "...twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty..."
"Rezzi", she said gently, "I don't think they're attending. I think they're queueing."
"Queueing for my wisdom!"
"Queueing for breakfast", Penelope corrected.
The procurement became gloriously absurd. Reza's asset register now included seven teaspoons, seventeen clothes pegs, half a tennis ball, one tiny garden gnome hat, a bicycle bell, a small plastic dinosaur, and fifty-two bottle tops.
Reza tapped a twig against an upside-down flowerpot. "Quarterly Board Meeting is now in session! Asset acquisition is up three hundred and forty percent!"
Penelope asked the question every child is thinking: "How many of those are edible?"
"That metric", Reza replied smoothly, "is still under review."
Then came the final, perfect collapse.
One bright morning Reza marched into the kitchen. "Beatrice, my Procurement Division requires a ceremonial capital injection. Please bring the fresh tub of Dreamies into the garden."
Mrs Higgins, who adored him, chuckled and brought the tub outside. The entire flock sat in disciplined formation on the fence. Reza puffed out his chest. "BEHOLD! My Procurement Division!"
Mrs Higgins opened the tub with a cheerful CRACK. In one split second the magpies did the maths: fluffy manager = middleman. Human lady = source.
Every single magpie launched at once, streaming straight past Reza like a feathered hurricane. He went SPROING into the hydrangeas. The magpies surrounded Mrs Higgins, sitting politely and staring at the real Chief Executive.
Reza emerged from the bush wearing a petal on his nose and a leaf on his ear. The truth landed with the gentle weight of a bottle cap bouncing off his head.
Penelope padded over. "Rezzi..."
"I don't think you hired the magpies."
"I think the magpies hired you."
Reza sat silently for a long moment. Tiger laughed so hard he fell off the fence with a delighted BOING. Ginger Tom wheezed from his sunny spot. Even Penelope smiled.
Reza stood up, shook the leaf from his ear, and lifted his chin with unshakable dignity.
"Exactly as planned", he announced. "I have successfully outsourced executive decision-making to the primary stakeholder. True leaders know when to delegate upwards."
Mrs Higgins chuckled as she gently shooed the magpies away and put the borrowed items in a "lost-and-found" tray by the gate.
"A garden isn't a business, darling", she said fondly, stroking Reza's head. "Sharing nicely is much better than clever schemes."
That evening Reza curled up on his cushion. He closed one eye thoughtfully.
"Clearly", he murmured, "I simply need a larger Human Resources department. Tiger, you're promoted."
Tiger gasped. "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!"
"Enthusiasm", said Reza.
"BET!"
Just then three magpies landed neatly outside the kitchen door and stared expectantly at Mrs Higgins. Reza watched them. Mrs Higgins watched them. The magpies watched Mrs Higgins.
Reza nodded wisely. "Excellent. They've successfully identified the Chief Executive Officer."
Penelope licked her paw. "And what are you, Rezzi?"
Reza closed his eyes and purred with supreme satisfaction. "I am a Consultant."
A very important message from Mrs Higgins: Wild birds are clever and fun to watch, but they are not pets or workers. Never try to train them to bring you things or take food that isn't yours — it can cause problems for everyone. The best way to enjoy nature is to respect it and share treats fairly with your actual friends.
Night night. Sleep tight.