THE MAN WHO SPOKE OF CHICKENS
Gabriel "Cockney" ShontonMctavishoughson is a hardworking vaguely English man from the heart of the United Kingdom. He doesn't have a very clean streak, inexplicable property damage follows him around like a bad odour. Birds have a bad habit of blundering into things when he takes a morning meander. Working on farms is a hastle because the chickens desperately attempt to breach the coop. A murder of now recognizable crows swarms his home to roost. If he goes to the beach he sticks near the children. Children tend to chase seagulls away. Especially when you throw a pound twenty at them. Enough for an ice cream, at least.
Not that he minds the birds. He's seen pigeons crap a storm around him but be avoided like a counter bullseye. He couldn't articulate to you how he justified them, but ask his parents and they'd tell you it'd been happening since he was a wee little tot. (holy shit I win at english colloquialisms or whatever the fuck)
It wasn't until a very rich, powerful man offered to explain to him just what was happening that he started to care. One lives day by day, and he could simply avoid looking up.
But when his roof caved in from the roosting of an uncountable flock of various birds, he was left in financial disarray. Not to mention the invasion of his house by the winged cretins.
So he took up the offer, finding himself in a very classy jet on his way to an undisclosed location in the Americas to be briefed.
"We wouldn't like to say you're special." The man told him. "It makes you sound like a goddamn retard." Gabriel just looked at him.
Upon their arrival, the man marched Gabe through what he thought was the most anticlimactic hallway he'd ever seen, all concrete and fluorescent lights.
"Need more fresh air through here." He told the man, who'd introduced himself as Richard on their trip over. "Need some open windows." Richard held his gaze, marching down the hall into a large office, Gabe could see a white room through the a room wide window.. He didn't know what to say.
"Go on in there." Richard said, handing him a bottle of water. "Drink all of this, I'll be in in a second." Gabe drank it, wandering into the room. He could see into the office, Richard was speaking into a simple looking microphone. The door closed behind Gabe. "Hey!" he shouted. Richard opened it. "What?"
"The door."
"Yes. It's on hinges, did you know that?"
"It closed by itself. What is this?" Gabe shouted, gesturing at the room.
"Ah. This is where we prove it to you. You'll only be here once." Richard put the stop on the door, wandering back into the office, speaking into the microphone.
"Ah, Mr. ShontonMctavishoughson? Step up to the Dias, please." He gestured at the pallid white platform behind Gabe. Gabe wandered over, bewildered.
A small trap door opened in the dias, a static white box coming through it. Gabe drank more water. The box stopped and the sides fell off. A small cage was inside, a chicken twitching around , amazed at the new larger, whiter environment. Richard entered.
"This is a Chicken." he said, pointing at the oblivious bird, he kicked the doorstop out, and it swung shut. "I knew it." He whispered.
"Do you like birds, Gabriel?" Richard said to him childishly.
"They're alright."
"Not too fond of them, myself. Open the cage, will you?"
Gabe obliged and the chicken stared at him, suddenly transfixed. "Tell it I don't like it."Richard commanded.
"What?"
"Just do it."
"Why? It's a chicken."
"That's no excuse. Now tell it I don't like it."
Gabe stared at the bird.
"He doesn't like you." He said, gesturing at Richard.
"Man, what a dick." It clucked.
I AM PAUSING IT HERE HA HA FUCK YOU
__________________
I see you jockin' me.
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