Revenge of the Chickens

July 23

The plan was simple. It was genius. And they just knew it would work.

"What are humans scared of?"

"Knives!"

"And what is sharp as a knife?"

"Talons!!"

"So, what is our weapon against the humans??" Scratch, the team general, announced.

"TALONS!!!"

"CORRECT. Good job team. We depart soon."

He looked into the sky, the soft wind ruffling his feathers. They were standing near the edge of the forest, the closest they could be without the risk of being seen by humans. Soon, they would be totally exposed, back in the old chicken coop. Soon.

He signaled towards the others. They each, one by one, stepped out of the safety of the woods. The line of chickens waddled towards the farm, led by Scratch. They got closer and closer, hiding behind houses on their journey. Finally, they found themselves behind the barn. Scratch peeked at the old chicken coop.

"What the heck?"

There were more chickens. All of them in the coop.

"Psst. Hey." Scratch whispered to them. A few chickens looked over.

"We need your help. Those farmers, you have to help us."

"Help you what?" A chicken replied.

Scratch paused. "Help us kill them."

"Why should we help you?"

"Listen dweebs. Little do you know, those farmers are keeping you in there so that they can fatten you up and eat you. We escaped from here. Either help us, or die."

The chickens huddled and discussed the options. One came forward. "Okay. We'll help you."

"Excellent."