The Chickens in the Walls

The heir to a vast fried chicken restaurant corporation, one Timothy le Zanders esquire the 3rd, inherited the fried chicken corporation along with an ancient mansion in Europe. Can I just say, that mansion was like a castle.

So Timothy starts to settle into this fancy European mansion of his, the insides all newly renovated (it even had indoor plumbing!), when, lo and behold, he starts to hear a flurrying and pecking and scratching within the walls.

"There are chickens in the walls!" Timothy cries to his servants. But his servants look at him as if he's gone mad, for they hear nothing but the wind howling through the valley below.

But the servants begin to have their imaginations impressed when some foxes start digging at the foundations of the walls outside. Lots and lots of foxes come from all over the countryside to dig near those walls as if it's some big party they got an invite to.

Welp, as they dig, the walls begin to crumble and Timothy falls right out of his bed and on his face with an "oof."

From out those crumbled walls issue forth an immense stampede of clucking, befouled, filth-damp chickens, clucking with phlegm-clogged throats and carrying on like berserking demon spawn. The train of that unholy procession is a mile or two long, or, for the Europeans, a certain number of kilometers. The horde of chickens that had spilled from those aged, crumbled walls devours all in its path. It takes out crops, cattle, and even sets to work on the buildings and villagers of a nearby village. It goes on straight to the coast and begins swimming across the Atlantic Ocean.

Legend has it, that enormous procession of winged beasts is swimming to America, where the headquarters of that fried chicken empire is seated.

Meanwhile, dear Timothy, crudely dispossessed of his castellated mansion, finds a crevice in the mansion's foundations. He puts some dynamite to that crevice, and with a team of archeologists discovers and explores the profane subterranean depths of an ancient temple dedicated to the old chicken god Cluckulhu.

It was in those depths that Timothy le Zanders esquire the 3rd, last scion of a massive fried chicken empire, vanished and was never seen by human eye again.

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Credited to Rick_the_Intern 

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