I used to fly a kite when I was young.

The kite would fight with clouds. Ever since then I've suspected that the clouds are out to get me. Sometimes they crash into my house and wake me up at night. A cloud shaped like a man with a top hat broke a window one evening and came into my living room. He doffed the hat and he apologised, but as he did so he morphed into a rat. The rat withdrew the apology. The clouds of my breath formed themselves into mice and they attacked the rat. The rat ran out the window and disappeared into a cloud shaped like a wedding cake. The mice tried to get back into my head, but I wouldn't let them.

Bertie: I know a man who could have been an animal.
Roy: My grandfather used to could-have-been-an-animal every day until someone stole his wig.
Bertie: You have to be very careful of someone stealing your wig.
Roy: Or your nurse.
Bertie: Or your nurse's wig.
Roy: Or your wig's nurse. My grandfather's wig died when its nurse was saying 'hoppity' for a man who was holding his eyes in his head in case they fell out. He was supposed to be guarding her, but he wouldn't have seen her getting away. She liked saying 'hoppity'.
Bertie: If it's a bird, it must have fallen asleep in the air.
Roy: I used to fly a cat when I was young. My brother flew a brick wall for the cat to sit on, but it preferred to hover above the wall.