Jeff fluttered frenziedly over the computer mouse, hoping to bring enough weight to bear to click over the REVERT button in the menu.
It's no good, but he kept beating his wings over the curved plastic mouse, shedding scales from his wings that fell like a shower of colored pixie dust.
"Help! Someone, help!" Jeff tried to scream, but butterflies have no voice. He isn't even sure they have a mouth, but as he kept trying to transform mental screams to physical ones, a long dark tongue unwound. He guessed its what the butterfly uses to suck up nectar.
"So freaky," he thought to himself.
He's had a good freak-out, but now he needs to think. His butterfly form can't work the computer program. He can't communicate with words.
Panic edges back into his mind. "What am I going to do?"
His wings are at rest, and six wiry legs are on the desktop near his massive computer keyboard.
A breeze ruffled his wings.
A breeze? Jeff fluttered back into flight to investigate the source of the breeze. His flight took him in an indirect path across the room to hover in front of the enormous open window.
The breeze kept wanting to push Jeff away from the window, so he beat his wings faster and made headway.
Then, in one chaotic instant, there's a gust of wind that sucked him right out the window and into uncontrolled loops that sent him spiraling over the roof of his own home.