The Great Chicken God

The great chicken god Cluckoth-luhulu’N-huttoalbh—Cluckoth for short--is watching. It is watching from beyond, from beyond the greasy fried fringes of our reality. Cluckoth is angry. Normally insignificant to such a one as could pull worms from things huger and stranger than the stars, we, little beings that we are, have gotten his attention. We’ve been eating too much chicken, oh, yes we have. Yes, the very fringes of our reality have been lathered with fried chicken grease. Oily, oily.

Cluckoth has begun to manifest himself in our dreams, cramming people into cages just to fry them up at a prodigal pace, until they wake up screaming. Some don’t wake at all.

But these nightmares will pale in comparison to when Cluckoth fully enters our sphere of existence, beyond the celestial spheres, beyond the dead and dying stars, beyond the greasy fried fringes of our reality, from a place of ever piping music and dancing chicken monoliths that stretch across chasms and eons of space and time.

Cluckoth is coming.

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Credited to Rick_the_Intern 

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