Why I'm Scared of Chickens
I don't like chickens. In fact, allow me to phrase that another way; I wish that all chickens would get put inside an airplane which would then get dropped inside of an active volcano. Yeah that's how much I hate them. In fact, I hate them so much that whenever I see one of them whilst out on a walk I'll immediately turn back and take the long way around. Now my hatred towards chicken isn't just a blind hatred; in fact believe it or not I actually used to love chickens.
However, I always use to hear stories about the chickens planning to revolt. I dismissed these rumours as being exactly that just rumours. One of the biggest conspiracy nuts who believed about the chickens revolting was none other than Howard. Howard was a strange specimen to say the very least. He was a fat fucking rat who wore a shower cap on his head at all times. He had also duck taped two large pieces of toast to his chest and back. Howard went around town complaining that the chickens were evil, and begged everyone to listen to his pleas. "We're doomed! The great chicken revolt is coming!" Howard had cried to me one day. He then pointed towards the gate of a nearby chicken farm and yelled, "that gate won't last forever ya know? We're all doomed!" ignored his warning and punched him in the face before heading off on my merry way. Oh if only I had taken his warning to heart. Allow me to explain if you'd let me my friend.
Several years ago, I used to work as a chicken farmer under the tutelage of Farmer Francis at his chicken farm up in Wales. My job was to feed all of the chickens, and I was also responsible for counting how many eggs were being laid at the end of the day. By far, the highlight of my day was when it came time for feeding the chickens. I loved doing it and not to toot my own horn was very good at it. Well it's not like you can fuck up feeding chickens anyway right? I just wish that I could say the same good things about Farmer Francis.
Farmer Francis wasn't a very good farmer by any stretch of the imagination. Francis was very sadistic when it came to running his farm. He had one very strict rule. If the chicken wasn't laying eggs. It was straight to the chopper for the little bugger. Francis is also
very close friends with Ronald McDonald. Yes Ronald McDonald so sad. Twice a week, Francis sends a car full of chickens up to one of Ronald McDonald's slaughterhouses. Ronald then fills the empty car up with seven big bags of money. The car is then brought back to Wales with Francis having made a smashing profit in the process.
Farmer Francis also has no moral code and was supporting the local battery which tortures chickens. The battery is ran by Edward Holmes. Holmes is a former executioner for Amigo Loans and now works as the head of the most successful chicken battery in Great Britain. Holmes' methods have been both praised and criticised by millions upon millions across the globe. A lot of people have been petitioning to get the entire battery locked up much to the chagrin of Holmes and Francis.
The Easily Offended Knights of Nottingham were trying their absolute best to try and get the battery shut down. They had made several threatening calls to Holmes demanding that he close down the battery before the Knights burn it to the ground. The Knights dispatched one of their highest-ranking members to investigate the battery. That being of course the Blue M&M. Blue had joined up with the knights in order to not face the same punishment that his M&M brethren had suffered. For you see; The Knights were going after the M&M's because the knights believed they were responsible for killing one of their members named MT Bar.
Ahem sorry about that massive tangent, anyways, Blue M&M was bought off by Holmes. Holmes and Francis paid Blue a great deal of dosh to keep his little blue M&M mouth shut. With Blue silenced and the knights scrambling for information, Holmes and Francis both seemed practically untouchable. I too was disgusted with the way Farmer Francis was running his operations but I couldn't do anything to remedy the situation. I did want to make a difference, and I did want to put an end to the tyranny that Farmer Francis inflicts upon his chickens. Sadly however after this experience I no longer feel that way. Here is my story. I'd uh recommend getting some tissues ready. Trust me when I say this is one heart-breaking story. It's so sad that even Tim Allen from the hit show Home Improvement had to turn away while reading this. Yeah that's how sad it is.
This all happened on a freezing cold day in February. I had gotten to the farm a little later than usual and saw that Farmer Francis was waiting for me by the front entrance of the farm. I walked up to him and asked, "hey what's going on Francie baby?" Francis then proceeded to slap me very aggressively before saying in a harsh voice, "don't call me Francie baby boyio! We meaning you have got a lot of work to do today." "Oh really?" I asked as Farmer Francis continued with, "yep. You see: it's come to my attention that none of the chickens in site number three are laying eggs. This is unacceptable." "So what? Just kill them like you normally do." I said bluntly. "Oh I'm going to." Francis then pointed his rotten finger at me. "Oh no I'm not doing it I'm..." I was cut off as Francis yelled, "deal with it boyio! Do your fucking job or else I'll feed you to the dogs." Farmer Francis owns a huge gang of smelly junkyard dogs, and whenever someone on the farm refused to do their job, Francis would feed them to the dogs. He'd also use the same method sometimes with chickens that didn't want to hatch any more eggs if he feeling particularly evil that day.
I didn't want to argue any further so I nodded my head, and with that Farmer Francis began making his leave. I meanwhile made my way over to site number three. I guess I should explain somethings. The chicken farm is massive and as such has been split into three sections nicknamed sites by Francis. Now sites one and two weren't that bad, but site number three? Oh don't even get me started on site number three! I hated site number three more than any of the others because that's where the rapid chickens tend to be put. I took a heavy sigh before filling up some buckets with chicken feed. Carrying the buckets by the handles, I made my way inside the site. What I saw was unpleasant to say the very least.
In the very corner of the room, a large white chicken was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Now as bad as that might sound: this isn't really anything out of the ordinary when it comes to site number three. You see at site number three, the chickens get really competitive when it comes to their food. This because usually, site number three is the last site I visit because as I've said before it is by far the worst site in the entire farm. Now when I say competitive I mean really competitive. The chickens will bite and claw at one another in order to see who gets the last scrap of chicken feed. It's quite fun to watch actually.
Now some of you may be asking; why are you bothering to feed the chickens if you're just gonna kill them? Well it's mainly because I want to ease them into their execution. I was also kind of hoping to kill them while they're not paying attention. Taking them by surprise if you will. So I headed over to the mortally wounded chicken, and began cradling it. Then something strange happened. The injured chicken was not dead at all. It's eye shot open and it grabbed hold of my chin. It held onto my chin for dear life. Suddenly, I felt something hit the back of my head, and with that I passed out onto the floor.
I awoke about an hour later stuck to the floor. Some really nasty smelling and incredibly sticky honey had been used to keep me restrained to the floor. That's when the door to site number three creaked open as a large entrogue of chickens entered the scene. Suddenly, the chickens began speaking to me in English. "What's the weather like down there sonny?" One of the chickens asked. "What's going on here? You've got no reason to treat me like this!?" I yelled angrily. That's when one of the chickens obviously the ringleader revealed themselves to me. Now at a glance, the chicken didn't look any different from the others. However, if one were to take a closer look, you could clear see that the leader chicken was 1% fatter than the others. A big difference I know.
So anyways, the leader chicken revealed his name to be King Chicken. Wow how original. "No reason eh?" King Chicken said before continuing with, "you have any idea how many of us that you and your buddy Francis kill everyday? A whole fucking heap." "What do you expect me to do?" I asked before continuing with, "I'm just doing my job!" "Everyone has a choice son. You just didn't want to take it." King Chicken said bluntly as he turned to face two of his subordinates. "You two bring in Eustace." I wondered if he meant Eustace from Courage the Cowardly Dog but sadly no. Eustace wasn't even a chicken. He was a duck with a proper rad sounding voice. He handed a small laser device over to King Chicken. "What is that thing?" I asked confused. "Some bear sold us a laser defence mechanism to protect us from Francis, but with these flippers I can't even turn it on." Eustace explained.
I then asked why Eustace had given the laser over to King Chicken. It was the King himself who answered me by saying, "we're gonna use it on you!" "What why?" I asked confused as a confused man often does when confused about something confusing which confuses him. That's a whole lot of confusion! King Chicken then proceeded to explain that the laser was the work of the great chicken elder Lord Richfield. Richfield is an incredibly old and crusty dinosaur. Yes you heard me right. Dinosaur. There's not many chickens in this gang is there matey? Anyways, Richfield had this laser developed by his special forces known as the UCTF (United Chicken Task Force). The UCTF had developed the laser to turn people into chickens.
You see: Richfield's masterplan was for the laser to turn everyone into chickens. Once everyone has become a chicken, Richfield and King Chicken will have complete dominance throughout the country. Once they've taken over Wales, Richfield and King Chicken will set their sights on taking over Downing Street by taking down the people who advise ole Boris Johnson. This includes General R. Asquith. Poor old Asquith. He just can't catch a break can he? I'll tell you one thing though, Asquith sure can catch a cold. Ha!
With Downing Street under their control, the pair will then turn Boris himself into a chicken. With Boris and Asquith out of commission, King Chicken and Richfield will control Great Britain and will then begin their super ultimate master plan. What is that I hear you not asking. Well my friends, their plan is take over the world. Of course! I was then told that I would be the first to try out this marvel creation.
I tried my best to break free from the honey trap but I just couldn't. I couldn't do anything. The laser was switched on and a large red laser shot right into my back. It felt like someone pouring a kettle onto your face. I screamed in agony as the process finally came to an end. "Set him free." King Chicken said to his subordinates who did as they were told by removing me from the sticky honey. "Oh my head." I muttered while holding my head. That's when I noticed something. My hands weren't hands anymore. No they were feathers. "Get a mirror!" I cried. "As you wish." King Chicken said as he had Eustace hand me a mirror. I screamed at the very top of my longs causing the mirror to shatter into a million pieces. I was not me anymore. I was... I was... I was a fucking chicken! Oh bullocks. A good looking chicken I must say but a chicken none the less.
The King smiled at me and said, "well the laser works a treat. Now it's time for Francis and that prick Holmes." The King Chicken and his followers made their way out of the site towards the front entrance of the farm where Farmer Francis was smoking a cigarette. "Oh my what's this?" Farmer Francis asked half dazed as he was shot by the laser. He was now a chicken just like me. "I'll get you King Chicken! Oh I'll get you!" Francis yelled angrily. "I wish you luck." King Chicken said sarcastically. With that, King Chicken and his followers made their towards the chicken battery. "What have I done?" I said to myself as I hopped over to where Francis was. "It's not your fault." Francis said before continuing with, "it's mine. Those damn chickens were probably planning this for months. Years maybe. If they turn Boris Johnson into a chicken then no one will be able to stop them in their quest for world domination." "Well we've got do something!" I proclaimed as Francis asked, "and what's that? I mean if you haven't noticed boyio we're kind of chickens now." "We've got to save Holmes." I said as we both made our way towards the battery.
Arriving at the battery, we found it to have been already stormed by King Chicken and his forces. We made our way inside the battery, and saw that all the cages which contained the chickens had been broken free. The entire battery was empty. Not a single chicken in sight. This was starting to get a little unsettling. We eventually reached Holmes' office, and made our way inside, Sadly, Holmes had not been turned into a chicken like us no instead he had been pecked to death by those dreaded beasts. "Eddie!" Francis cried in despair. I told Francis that we could mourn for Holmes later. Right now we had a planet to save. Francis reluctantly agreed.
Then all of the sudden the TV in Holmes' office switched on to show the afternoon news. The news reporter was standing by the Thames in London. "This just in: chickens have been running rampid across Wales, and are closing in to Britain. Prime Minister Boris Johnson has placed Great Britain under martial law until all the chickens have been dealt with by his forces."
It then cut to show Boris Johnson doing a press conference outside of 10 Downing Street. "This is perhaps the greatest crisis we've faced in recent times. Forget the whole pandemic this is world war three!" Boris coughed into his McDonalds brand tissue before continuing with, "ladies and gentlemen: I'm begging you please stay in your homes. Don't leave. Don't even go into your garden. These chickens are somehow turning the entire population of Wales into chickens." With that, the press conference came to an abrupt end. This was even more serious than we thought. We needed to kill King Chicken and Richfield before they take over the entire United Kingdom. The news reporter from earlier then came back on screen and said, "I'm being told that more chickens have been sighted over in Croydon."
It was then shown that chickens had started attacking the local Tesco's in Croydon. The owner of the Tesco named Barnabee Bee was shown being chased around the store by the crazed chickens. It was quite funny actually. Appranately, Farmer Francis didn't think as he ended up shutting the TV off whilst muttering, "I can't watch anymore." This is exactly what Howard said would happen! Oh why didn't I listen to the wise words of that wise shower cap wearing sewer rat? As I finished gathering my thoughts, some chickens began climbing in through the window of Holmes' office. Francis and I ran down outside of the battery all the while getting pecked at and slashed at by waves upon waves of rabid chickens.
We made our way onto the streets only to find them completely surrounded by chickens. We needed to get to Croydon and fast! That's when I had an idea. Francis and I made our way over to the local train station. Luckily for us, a train had recently pulled up outside the station. This was our only ticket to Croydon. Francis and I made our way onto the train with Francis closing the door behind us. I made my way into the driver's seat and I began driving the train towards Croydon. While riding down the roads, we were chased down by waves upon waves of chickens that were once humans. I then had a better idea.
I drove right past Croydon. "What are you doing? Croydon's back that way!" Francis yelled as I said, "I know just hang on tight." We eventually somehow crashed the train right into the London Underground. We made our way down the dark tunnels of the underground until we reached the outside world. It was even worse than I expected. The entirety of London was pretty much chickens. King Chicken and Richfield were on their way to 10 Downing Street in order to turn Boris Johnson into a chicken. "Shit!" I cried in despair as I fell to the floor defeated. There was no way we could save the world now. That's when a black Taxi cab pulled up beside us on the road. "Get in!" The driver yelled as me and my Francis did as we were told and practically leaped inside of the cab.
The driver who refused to reveal his name announced that he was taking us to 10 Downing Street. He explained that King Chicken and Richfield had not yet made it there. "Boris Johnson is being heavily guarded in his office by General Asquith." The driver explained. We then reached a road block which had been set up by General Asquith in an attempt to keep the chickens out. Oh yeah like that's gonna do anything right? "No time for waiting!" The driver yelled as he drove straight through the border. "After them!" Asquith yelled as he began shooting at the cab with his shotgun. Downing Street was dead ahead. We continued driving all the while getting rammed into constantly by soldiers and chickens.
Arriving at 10 Downing Street, I found that the entirety of Downing Street was deserted. I turned around and saw King Chicken and his forces arriving on the scene. "Well you've crashed a few parties before but I never expected you to make it this far." King Chicken said evilly. "Why don't you two just give up and go home?" King Chicken asked before continuing with, "face it your entire world is soon to come to an end. We chickens are the superior beings. Not humans. We've been waiting and planning for decades to exact our ultimate revenge, and now it's finally our chance." "Our chance?" Richfield asked before continuing with, "who said anything about us buddy?"
Richfield then proceeded to pick King Chicken up, and bit his head off killing him instantly. "You helped me and my forces to take over Great Britain, and now I no longer have any use for you." "Richfield you don't need to do this. Maybe we work out some kind of deal." I pleaded to which Richfield laughed before saying, "fat chance!" He then had his chickens swarm around the driver. "Get them off get them off!" The driver cried in despair as he was fully consumed in a river of chickens. I guess that the driver has become the new Harris. If you get that little reference then you get a cookie. A rotten cookie too.
Suddenly, with a flick of a hat, Richfield rose up to be over 9000 feet tall. "This world belongs to me!" Richfield bellowed as he rose his mighty foot up into the air ready to stomp onto me and Francis. We managed to duck out of the way as Richfield began chasing after us. "First I deal with you two pests. Then I take on those two fools Boris and Asquith." That's when something incredible happened. Richfield ended up tripping over himself as he had forgotten to tie his shoes. "Oh sugar honey ice tea!" Richfield cried as he fell to the floor at an alarming rate. Boris Johnson was rushed out of 10 Downing Street by General Asquith. The entire street began running away in a mad frenzy. Even the chickens ran away as Richfield continued to fall towards the cold hard ground. Richfield eventually hit the cold hard ground with so much force that he ended up going straight through it. He fell and fell and fell all the way down towards the fiery depths of Hell's Kitchen.
With Richfield and King Chicken dead, somehow the effects of the laser were worn off, as everyone began reverting back into humans expect for me and Francis for some bizarre reason. Eustace explained that for some reason the effects of the laser remain permeant for the first two people infected. What a terrible rule but okay. Boris Johnson and General Asquith thanked us both profusely for saving Great Britain from the evil chickens. Francis and I then announced to Johnson that we were leaving Great Britain behind. We were going someplace new and fresh. Somewhere where nobody knows our names. Ha! There was a little chicken farm up near Walnut Pass that might suit our needs, but uh only time will tell unfortunately.
So that's my story. That's the reason I hate chickens. I mean how could you not honestly after hearing my tragic tale? Chickens are evil and you should feel very ashamed if you like them. Eustace and the rest of the chickens from Farmer Francis' farm were sent to a maximum security prison for their crimes against the people of Earth. The events of the incident are currently being made into a film by Walt Disney Studios. It's going to be called; "Clucking Hell."
The night after the incident, me and Francis waved our goodbyes as we got onto a large ship captained by none other than Colonel Dodo. He's taking us to a better place. A place he claims is called Candied Island. Who needs Candied Island? It's sweeter at the docks I say! Whatever the case maybe, Dodo has gratefully allowed me to write my experience down on his laptop. As I finish writing this down, I have this to say: "don't ever mess with any animal especially chickens, because the day might come when they decide to mess with you." That's when the real fun can begin.
Credited to Bruno Tattagllia
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