Coalition of Humans Sues Birds for “Widespread Egg Plagiarism,” Claims Avian Species Have Been Copying the Same Basic Design for Millions of Years

Washington — A newly formed coalition of human inventors, intellectual-property attorneys, food-industry representatives, and people who have apparently had enough announced Tuesday that it is filing a sweeping lawsuit against birds as a biological class, alleging that virtually every avian species on Earth has been producing eggs that are “suspiciously similar” to one another for millions of years.

The coalition, which has not yet settled on a name but has settled on a filing fee, describes itself in its founding charter as “a broad alliance of stakeholders in the originality economy.” Its membership includes fourteen patent attorneys, two former design-award jurors, a restaurant trade group, an industrial designer, and one man who joined, per the intake paperwork, because “it was time somebody said something.”

Our Research Division has obtained the complaint, its eleven amended versions, the exhibit binders, the proposed licensing schedule, the enforcement manual, the transcript of the preliminary hearings, and the counterclaims — of which there are now considerably more than there were claims. The Division presents its findings below, and states its principal conclusion at the outset, because the entire file descends from it.

The lawsuit is being covered elsewhere as a group of professionals losing their minds. The Division’s file supports a narrower and more instructive reading: a group of professionals applying, with total sincerity and at maximum scale, the one inference their own field spent a century building walls against — that resemblance is proof of theft. Every doctrine the coalition collides with in this report exists specifically to stop that inference. The coalition meets each wall in sequence, at speed, and in public.

CLASSIFICATION: INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY — CROSS-SPECIES ENFORCEMENT
DISTRIBUTION: Patent Examiners, Ornithologists, Restaurant Groups, Estate Counsel for Extinct Defendants, Anyone Who Has Ever Held Two Eggs and Felt Something Was Off
PREPARED BY: The Externality Research Division
DATE: September 2026

The Complaint

The lawsuit was filed under the working title:

The Division notes that “Birds, Generally” is not a recognized form of party designation in any jurisdiction it surveyed, and that the coalition’s own filings appear aware of this, because the defendant list runs to forty-one pages and functions as an attempt to enumerate the general. It names chickens, ducks, geese, quail, ostriches, pigeons, eagles, sparrows, and — in a catchall provision the drafting attorney reportedly defended through two rounds of internal review — “any other feathered motherfucker currently manufacturing an oval calcium-based container.”

The conduct alleged is stated in the complaint’s first substantive heading, in the capitalization the coalition uses for concepts it considers self-evidently criminal:

SYSTEMATIC CROSS-SPECIES DESIGN THEFT

Plaintiffs argue that while birds differ in size, habitat, diet, migration pattern, song, plumage, and behavior, their eggs demonstrate what the attorneys describe as an “astonishing lack of original thought.”

The Division pauses here, on page one, to identify the load the complaint is asking a single observation to carry, because the observation is real and the load is not survivable. It is true that bird eggs resemble one another. It is true across ten thousand species, across every continent, and across a span of time the coalition will encounter later in this file, to its visible distress. What the complaint does with this observation is infer copying from it — and that inference, resemblance therefore theft, is the precise move that infringement doctrine exists to intercept. Similarity is half a claim. The other half is copying: access, derivation, an original, an author. The complaint’s remaining forty pages contain no author, no original, and no act of copying. They contain similarity, restated with increasing volume.

The volume is genuine. At the announcement press conference, one attorney held up photographs of a chicken egg and a duck egg.

“Look at this shit.”

He placed them side by side.

“Different bird.”

Pause.

“Same fucking idea.”

The Division has reviewed the demonstration and confirms its factual content in full. It was a different bird. It was the same idea. The Division further notes that the demonstration is a textbook side-by-side comparison of the kind performed in every copyright trial in the country, executed competently, and that it establishes exactly what side-by-side comparisons establish, which is similarity, which was not in dispute, and which is not the question. The question — who copied whom — was not addressed at the press conference, and the file will demonstrate that this omission was not an oversight. It was load management.

Cosmetic Differentiation

The complaint’s central exhibit is a survey of the defendant class’s product line, which the coalition argues demonstrates millions of years of attempted concealment — plagiarism disguised through minor aesthetic modification. The Division reproduces the survey as filed:

The coalition characterizes these variations as:

COSMETIC DIFFERENTIATION OF SUBSTANTIALLY IDENTICAL INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY

A patent attorney explained the theory to reporters:

“If I copy your chair and make it six times bigger, I did not invent a new fucking chair.”

The Division certifies the chair proposition as legally sound. Scaling an existing design is not invention; the doctrine agrees; the attorney would win the chair case. The Division’s difficulty is with the step before the chair — the step in which it was established that anyone copied anything. In the chair hypothetical, the copying is stipulated in the first four words. In the egg case, the copying is the entire dispute, and the coalition has stipulated it to itself.

Ornithologists raised this objection at the press conference in its scientific form, explaining that egg structure reflects convergent evolutionary constraints — that unrelated lineages arrive at the same design because the same physics is grading all of their homework.

The attorney nodded.

“That sounds exactly like something a plagiarist would say.”

The Division flags this exchange as the file’s methodological pivot, and asks the reader to note what happened to the theory at this moment. A theory that treats supporting evidence as confirmation and contradicting evidence as the adversary’s cunning has stopped being a legal theory and become a weather system. Everything that enters it — the convergence literature, the fossil record, eventually the coalition’s own patent examiner — will exit as proof of the conspiracy. The remainder of this report should be read with that mechanism in view, because the coalition never repairs it, and it is the reason the file ends where it ends.

Scale-Based Evasion

Ostriches received particular criticism after plaintiffs reviewed the size of their eggs.

One coalition member initially assumed the ostrich egg represented an independent innovation, and the Division notes, for the record, that this was the closest the coalition came in the entire file to encountering its own defense. Legal counsel disagreed.

“No.”

He rotated the egg.

“This is just chicken egg XL.”

The amended complaint accordingly accuses ostriches of attempting to escape scrutiny through:

AGGRESSIVE SCALING

In briefing, the coalition’s attorneys compared the strategy to a technology company releasing the same product in:

Apple reportedly declined to comment.

Microsoft immediately requested licensing information.

The Division has confirmed both responses and considers them the most efficient character evidence in the file. One company recognized the analogy and said nothing. The other recognized a revenue model and said, in effect, go on. The Division notes that the ostrich itself, uniquely among the parties to this exchange, was selling nothing, marketing nothing, and had priced its product at the cost of laying it, and was nonetheless the only one accused.

The Same Shit With a Skin

Quail have also been named as major defendants.

Their spotted shells initially appeared visually distinct, and for approximately one afternoon the quail occupied the procedural position of a defendant with a plausible design-around. The coalition, unwilling to concede the point internally, hired a design consultant.

The consultant reportedly examined a quail egg for eight seconds.

“They put a pattern on it.”

Lawyers became furious.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

The complaint now describes quail eggs as:

THE SAME SHIT WITH A SKIN

Epic Games reportedly asked to stay out of this.

The Division reviewed the consultant’s invoice, which billed a half day, and the consultant’s finding, which is correct. Quail did put a pattern on it. The pattern is camouflage, is produced by pigment glands in the final hours before laying, and varies between individual hens so specifically that some species can recognize their own eggs by it — which is to say the quail’s “skin” is an anti-counterfeiting feature, deployed against actual counterfeit eggs, laid by actual brood parasites, in the one corner of this file where design theft genuinely occurs and the coalition never looked. The cuckoo does not appear anywhere in the forty-one pages of defendants. The Division checked twice.

The Standing Problem

To sue for plagiarism, it helps to know who was plagiarized. The coalition has not yet determined which bird first created the allegedly copied egg design, and the file records the search with a candor the Division found almost touching.

Chickens initially became the primary suspect, for the documented reason that humans are most familiar with their eggs. The Division notes that this is not an evidentiary standard; it is a grocery store. Nonetheless, for several days the working theory of the case was that the chicken was the original author and every other bird owed it royalties, a theory with the incidental feature of resolving, in a court filing, a question philosophers have been asked at parties for two and a half thousand years.

Evolutionary biologists then explained that eggs long predate chickens.

The legal team went silent.

One attorney asked:

“How long?”

The scientist answered.

The attorney slowly removed his glasses.

“Oh, these motherfuckers have been doing this for a WHILE.”

The Division confirms the scientist’s number. The hard-shelled egg predates not only the chicken but the bird, the dinosaur the bird descends from, and, by a comfortable margin, anything with feathers at all. The amniote egg — sealed, self-provisioning, laid on dry land — is on the order of three hundred and twenty-five million years old. The chicken, as a species humans would recognize, is roughly eight thousand. The coalition’s prime suspect arrived at the crime scene three hundred million years after the crime, purchased the murder weapon at retail, and has been reproducing it ever since without once asking where it came from — which, the Division concedes, is also a fair description of the coalition’s breakfast.

The suit has since expanded to include extinct avian ancestors and “any relevant predecessor entities.”

Unknown Mesozoic Co-Conspirators

Discovery became substantially more complicated after scientists explained that birds evolved from theropod dinosaurs and that egg-laying predates modern birds by an enormous margin. The coalition immediately amended its complaint. The defendant class now includes:

The Division notes that Doe pleading — suing defendants whose names you do not yet know — is a real and routine device, and that its customary scale is single digits. A filing that reserves four hundred million anonymous slots is not identifying defendants; it is estimating the fossil record and hoping to serve it. The Division further notes that the estimate is, if anything, conservative, which is the only respect in which the eleventh amended complaint can be described that way.

A judge questioned whether extinct organisms can be sued.

Plaintiffs responded:

“Their estates may have assets.”

The judge asked what assets.

The attorneys requested additional discovery.

The Division has attempted to construe the estate theory charitably and reports partial success. The estates of the Mesozoic defendants do have assets. The assets are limestone, chalk, and the fossil-fuel deposits underlying a substantial fraction of the industrialized economy, all of it composed of the defendants and their contemporaries, all of it long since seized, extracted, burned, and monetized by the plaintiff class without payment, license, or probate. The coalition is, in the strictest sense, suing an estate it has been liquidating for two centuries. The Division files this observation under the publication’s standing subject matter and moves on.

An Extremely Concerning Admission

Turtles, snakes, lizards, and crocodilians reportedly objected after learning that birds were being singled out despite widespread egg production elsewhere in the animal kingdom. The Division wishes to be precise about what happened next, because it believes the sequence to be without precedent in the history of litigation: a group of parties, facing no claims, filed a grievance demanding to know why they had not been accused.

A crocodile representative issued a statement:

“We’ve been laying this shit too.”

The coalition called that:

AN EXTREMELY CONCERNING ADMISSION

Reptiles were added to the complaint by lunchtime.

The Division observes that the crocodilian statement was, evidentially, a gift the coalition failed to open. Crocodilians and birds last shared an ancestor roughly two hundred and forty million years ago, and both lay hard-shelled eggs; the admission “we’ve been laying this shit too” is, on the coalition’s own timeline, proof that the design predates every named defendant and was never any bird’s to steal. Offered a witness who could exonerate the entire defendant class, the coalition’s response was to sue the witness. This is the weather system, functioning as designed.

Fish Immediately Stop Talking

Certain fish species became noticeably quiet once lawyers began asking broader questions about egg-based reproduction.

Marine biologists advised fish not to speak without counsel.

One salmon reportedly attempted to swim away.

A process server followed it upstream.

The Division has reviewed the service attempt against the requirements for personal jurisdiction and reports the following without further comment: the salmon was returning to the exact jurisdiction of its birth, along a route it has used for every significant life event, in a migration so predictable that three species of bear rely on it as a delivery schedule. It is the most servable defendant in the file. The process server’s expense report, which the Division has also reviewed, includes waders, a net, and an item listed as “emotional recalibration,” approved.

Design Stagnation

The coalition’s affirmative case concluded with an argument the Division regards as its most revealing: that the egg is not only plagiarized but lazy. Plaintiffs argue the fundamental architecture has remained suspiciously static:

A human industrial designer presented a slide:

“No hinge.”

“No modularity.”

“No USB-C.”

“No meaningful redesign.”

He looked around the room.

“What have these motherfuckers been doing?”

Biologists again attempted to explain natural selection. Nobody in legal wanted to hear it.

The Division wishes to answer the designer’s question, since nobody in the room did. What these motherfuckers have been doing is shipping. The egg has been in continuous production for longer than there have been continents in their current positions. It has survived five mass extinctions, including the one that removed its original manufacturers. It self-assembles overnight from ingredients the producer was going to eat anyway, requires no packaging beyond itself, biodegrades into fertilizer for its own successor, and has never once been recalled. The designer’s slide reads EGG v1 to EGG v2026 as stagnation. The Division reads the same slide as the only version history in existence with three hundred million years of uptime, and invites the reader to name the human product — the hinge, the module, the USB-C standard itself — that will appear in any changelog at all in even one million. Stability is what a solved problem looks like. The industry that renames this “stagnation” is the industry whose business model requires solved problems to be reopened annually, and the Division notes it was the one industry in the room.

Independent Creation

Attorneys representing several bird species denied the plagiarism allegations and asserted the standard defense: that each lineage developed its reproductive adaptations independently, through evolutionary processes, without reference to any other lineage’s work.

The coalition mocked this.

“Every defendant always says independent creation.”

A lawyer held up six eggs.

“You expect this court to believe six unrelated birds all independently landed on ‘smooth rounded container’?”

An evolutionary biologist whispered:

“Yes.”

The attorney pointed at him.

“Hostile witness.”

The Division must dwell here, because this is the hearing at which the case died, whether or not anyone present noticed. Independent creation is not a defendant’s excuse; it is a complete defense, the one that ends the case, and the reason the law demands proof of copying rather than proof of resemblance in the first place. The coalition’s incredulity — six unrelated parties landed on the same design — assumes that identical answers imply a shared source. But identical answers also arrive when every party is solving the same problem under the same constraints, and the natural world is the documented record of exactly that: the camera eye, invented separately by vertebrates and octopuses; powered flight, invented separately at least four times; the streamlined torpedo body, invented separately by sharks, dolphins, and extinct marine reptiles that never met. The whispered “yes” was not a witness being difficult. It was the correct answer to the question as asked, delivered by the one person in the room who knew the literature, and the coalition’s response — reclassifying the answer as hostility — is the weather system again, now operating inside a courtroom, at cost.

The Retroactive Patent

The coalition’s strategy became substantially more aggressive after it announced it would seek a retroactive human patent on the concept of:

“A GENERALLY ROUNDED BIOLOGICAL CONTAINER USED FOR OFFSPRING DEVELOPMENT.”

The Division notes the strategic logic, which the file states openly in an internal memorandum: if no original author of the egg can be located, the coalition’s position is not that the author exists — it is that the vacancy is available. The lawsuit began as an accusation of theft. It is now an application to become the party the theft was from.

Patent examiners rejected the application almost immediately on prior-art grounds.

The coalition appealed.

“Prior art by who?”

The examiner replied:

“Almost every egg-laying organism in evolutionary history.”

The coalition characterized the response as:

INSTITUTIONAL BIAS TOWARD BIRDS

The Division certifies the examiner’s office as the only institution in this file to perform its function correctly on the first attempt, and wishes to record what that function was. The novelty requirement — the rule that you cannot patent what already existed — is the patent system’s entire defense against precisely this application: a party claiming ownership of the commons on the theory that nobody else filed the paperwork. The coalition’s two positions, held simultaneously and briefed by the same attorneys, are that the egg design was stolen from someone, and that it belongs to no one and should therefore be assigned to them. The Division has diagrammed these positions and reports that they meet only at the coalition’s bank account.

The Licensing Schedule

Restaurant groups quickly joined the lawsuit after realizing the implications. If humans can establish rights over the egg form factor, every bird producing eggs for commercial use could theoretically owe royalties. The coalition circulated a proposed fee structure, which the Division reproduces:

The Division examined the schedule’s internal logic and found exactly one consistent principle: the fee tracks the price humans already charge each other for the egg, which is to say the coalition licensed the market rate back to itself and called it a royalty. The quail — accused, three sections ago, of adding nothing but a skin — is here assessed the lowest fee in the schedule while its skin is separately monetized under PREMIUM SHELL AESTHETICS, a pricing structure in which the same spots are simultaneously worthless as innovation and billable as luxury. The Division has seen this structure before. It is called a menu.

Farmers asked who would actually pay the royalties.

The coalition said:

“The birds.”

Farmers stared.

“They don’t have money.”

Lawyers began discussing liens against nests.

Enforcement

The coalition has reportedly prepared enforcement procedures against birds unable to satisfy judgments. The asset inventory, as filed:

The Division draws attention to the final line item, in which the coalition’s recovery strategy against birds consists, in material part, of repossessing its own members’ lost earrings, and in which the words “unattended human property” concede, in a schedule of avian assets, that the most valuable things birds own are things birds took from the plaintiffs — an act of appropriation the schedule does not call theft, because the schedule needs it to be collateral.

A bankruptcy attorney reviewed typical bird assets.

“These motherfuckers are judgment-proof.”

The coalition was devastated.

Pigeons immediately appeared more confident.

The Division confirms the bankruptcy attorney’s finding as the second correct professional opinion in the file, and notes its scope. “Judgment-proof” describes a defendant who can be found liable but from whom nothing can be collected, and it is ordinarily a condition of misfortune. The birds are judgment-proof by design: they own nothing, owe nothing, carry their entire estate in their plumage, and rebuild their real property annually from materiel abandoned by the plaintiff class. The pigeons’ confidence, in other words, was not bravado. It was a balance sheet. And a party whose liabilities cannot attach to anything has one further structural advantage the coalition had not yet considered, which the pigeons were about to demonstrate.

The Counterclaim

The lawsuit suffered its decisive setback when pigeons filed a counterclaim accusing humans of plagiarizing nest construction.

Their attorneys submitted photographs of:

The pigeon complaint states:

“Enclosed structure where family lives.”

“Wow.”

“Very original, humans.”

The coalition called the comparison absurd.

Pigeon counsel responded:

“Changing the size doesn’t make it original.”

The courtroom reportedly erupted.

The Division certifies the pigeon brief as three sentences long, fully responsive, and constructed entirely from the coalition’s own materials — the counterclaim being the chair argument, the scaling argument, and the cosmetic-differentiation argument, returned to sender with the address updated. A legal theory that cannot survive its own symmetry is not a theory; it is an aim. The coalition had spent eleven amended complaints building a weapon that works on any two similar objects, and had not, at any point in the drafting, looked around at what it was standing in.

What it was standing in was a building.

The Animal Kingdom Discovers Discovery

Beavers then filed claims regarding dams.

Termites filed claims regarding climate-controlled architecture.

Spiders requested review of human suspension bridges.

Ants reportedly asked for discovery concerning roads, logistics networks, agriculture, militaries, and hierarchical governments.

Human attorneys immediately requested that the case remain:

STRICTLY ABOUT EGGS

The animals objected.

The Division notes, with professional discomfort, that the animal claimants would not lack for a documentary record. The plaintiff species maintains an entire discipline — biomimicry — devoted to studying animal designs and reproducing them commercially, publishes its derivations in peer-reviewed journals, names its buildings after the termite mounds they copy, and files patents on the results. The counterclaimants, in other words, would enter discovery already holding the one thing the coalition never produced in its own case: written, dated, first-person admissions of access and copying, authored by the defendants, in the defendants’ own trade press. The request to keep the case STRICTLY ABOUT EGGS is the sound of counsel reading that literature for the first time.

The Egg Cinematic Universe

Disney reportedly entered negotiations to acquire whatever intellectual-property rights emerge from the litigation. An internal presentation described the opportunity as:

THE EGG CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

Potential projects allegedly include:

The Division notes that the slate contains a live-action remake of a film that does not exist, and that this is the studio’s standard sequencing merely stated in the wrong order, the original being, under current practice, a formality the remake no longer strictly requires.

The coalition rejected the proposal after Disney demanded rights extending to “all present and future oval objects, including memories thereof.”

Everyone agreed that was too much.

The Division records this moment for the file’s permanent index: a coalition attempting to retroactively own a three-hundred-million-year-old shape, in order to invoice animals with no money, encountered a counterparty whose opening position it found excessive. The phrase “including memories thereof” has appeared in this publication’s files before, in connection with the same rights-holder’s neural compliance program, and the Division notes only that when the coalition finally located a line it would not cross, the line was drawn at the point where somebody else’s theory of ownership reached inside the coalition’s own heads. Everyone is a bird to someone.

The Oval Colloquy

During preliminary arguments, the judge asked a basic question:

“Are you claiming ownership of an oval?”

Coalition attorneys objected to the characterization.

“Not the oval itself.”

“Then what?”

“The overall egg concept.”

“Which consists of?”

Long pause.

“The oval is doing a lot of work, Your Honor.”

The Division certifies the final answer as the most honest sentence any coalition attorney produced across the entire proceeding, and notes that it cost the coalition nothing to say and the case everything to admit. Every intellectual-property claim, pressed hard enough, arrives at this colloquy: the moment the court asks the claimant to separate the protectable expression from the unprotectable idea, and the claimant discovers the idea was carrying the whole claim. Most claimants dress the moment in expert testimony. The coalition, to its lone credit, simply reported the load.

The Devastating Evidence

Evolutionary biologists eventually submitted the evidence that had been available, free of charge, since the press conference: that similar egg designs exist because physical and reproductive constraints favor certain structures.

Rounded shapes resist pressure.

Shells provide protection.

Internal nutrients support development.

The shape also avoids sharp corners that would be extremely inconvenient inside an animal.

The courtroom grew quiet.

The judge turned toward plaintiffs.

“So there are functional reasons they look similar?”

Plaintiff’s counsel whispered with his team.

“Your Honor, we’d like to pivot to trade dress.”

Denied.

The Division wishes the reader to appreciate the specific catastrophe of the pivot, because it is the file’s finest legal slapstick and it goes by in nine words. The moment the court found the egg’s design functional, every remaining theory was dead — but trade dress was dead first, twice, and by name, because trade dress is the one doctrine with an explicit, absolute functionality bar, built into its foundations for the stated purpose of preventing claimants from using it to own useful designs after their other theories fail. Counsel, hearing the word “functional” from the bench, pivoted directly into the doctrine that the word “functional” extinguishes. It is the legal equivalent of fleeing a fire into the furnace room, and the single word “Denied” is the sound of a judge declining to bill for the explanation.

A Culture of Permissive Biological Copying

Despite mounting scientific, legal, and practical problems, the coalition says it will continue. Its newest filing alleges that even if no single bird copied another intentionally, the animal kingdom as a whole may have created:

A CULTURE OF PERMISSIVE BIOLOGICAL COPYING

The complaint argues that generations of animals repeatedly observing their parents produce eggs could constitute:

UNLICENSED DESIGN TRANSMISSION

Biologists called this reproduction.

The coalition replied:

“That’s your word.”

The Division has tracked the coalition’s theory of liability across the file and records its final trajectory. The claim began as bird-copied-bird. When no original bird could be found, it became ancestor-copied-ancestor. When the ancestors predated the claim, it became the-commons-should-be-ours. When the commons declined to be owned, the theory arrived here, at its terminal form: the allegation that heredity itself is an unlicensed distribution network — that the crime is not that anyone copied the egg, but that life transmits its designs forward at all, parent to offspring, without a rights framework in between. The Division notes that this is no longer a complaint about eggs. It is a complaint about the existence of a process that creates value without creating an invoice, filed by an industry that has never encountered one before and does not intend to start extending professional courtesy now. “That’s your word” is technically true. The word is reproduction. It has been the word for the entire period at issue.

Final Hearing

At press time, attorneys presented their strongest evidence. A table contained:

The lead attorney walked slowly down the table.

“Different species.”

He pointed.

“Same concept.”

Another.

“Same concept.”

Another.

“Same fucking concept.”

He turned toward the jury.

“Hundreds of millions of years.”

Pause.

“And nobody thought of a cube?”

A biologist raised her hand.

“That would be biologically terrible.”

The attorney pointed dramatically.

“Exactly what Big Egg wants you to believe.”

The Division has reviewed the closing argument and finds that it contains, in its final four words before the rebuttal, the coalition’s entire case stated at last in its honest form. “And nobody thought of a cube?” is not an accusation of copying. It is an expression of disappointment that the universe converged on an answer, and that the answer was not novel enough to bill for. The biologist’s rebuttal is complete and peer-reviewed: a cube concentrates stress at its corners, cannot be rotated in a nest, cannot be turned during incubation, and cannot exit a bird by any route the bird would endorse. Nobody thought of a cube for the same reason nobody thought of a square wheel, and something did think of very nearly everything else — the fossil and field record contains spherical eggs, conical eggs, and the pear-shaped eggs of cliff-nesting seabirds, which roll in a tight circle instead of off the ledge, each one a functional answer to a local problem, none of them licensed. The variation the coalition spent eleven complaints calling cosmetic is the R&D. The similarity it spent eleven complaints calling theft is the physics.

Outside the courthouse, thousands of birds reportedly continued producing eggs without authorization.

The coalition announced it would begin sending cease-and-desist letters immediately.

Delivery has proven difficult because:

The Division notes that the defendants do, in fact, maintain fixed seasonal residences, constructed at documented locations, to which they return with a reliability the postal service does not match. The residences simply appear, in the coalition’s own asset schedule, as property to be seized rather than addresses to be served — the coalition having reached the nests in its paperwork twice, once as collateral and once as a delivery problem, without either filing recognizing the other. The birds cannot be invoiced at the nest and dispossessed of it in the same proceeding. Counsel has been asked to pick one.

Closing Statement

At press time, the coalition’s cease-and-desist campaign remained undelivered, its patent remained rejected, its liens remained unrecorded for want of a debtor with a legal name, and its members had returned to their offices, where several reportedly ate eggs.

The counterclaims, however, remain live, and the Division has obtained a draft of the consolidated avian filing expected next term. It accuses humanity of plagiarizing flight, nests, songs, and migration, and closes with a cause of action the Division reproduces exactly as drafted, because no summary would survive the attempt:

The Division has reviewed Count V against the record and reports that bipedal locomotion appears in theropods approximately two hundred and thirty million years before the plaintiff class’s earliest documented use, that the coalition’s own eleventh amended complaint establishes the evidentiary standard under which this priority is dispositive, and that the birds, unlike the coalition, can name their original author, produce the fossil, and rest.

The coalition is expected to argue independent creation.