Saturday, July 16, 2016

From "Gods and Monsters," my latest book of flash fiction.

Oh yeah, THAT chicken

Get off the counter!” The chicken fluttered onto the dining-room table. I shooed it toward the outside door, but it flew back to the pass-thru. It pecked at the formica. Then it looked at me.

These pastel boomerangs are so 50′s.”

Shut up!” I pulled the cleaver off the magnet bar beside the sink. Me and the chicken, we had a history.

Are you pondering what I’m pondering?” it asked.

I think so,” I replied, “but you need two witnesses for a legal will, and we’re alone here.”
An echidna wearing a magenta cape leaped from behind the fridge. “That’s where you’re wrong!” it shrieked.

I jumped. I hadn’t expected the echidna. But then, nobody does. I advanced on the chicken, keeping one eye on the echidna, which made menacing gestures with its forepaws. The wind was picking up, and there was a lot of trash in the air. Wind? Indoors? The anteater laughed crazily.

Kinda slow on the uptake,” the chicken remarked. “Your housekeeping leaves a lot to be desired,” it added. “And your leap was more a stumble” it said to the echidna. At this point paper was knee deep on the kitchen floor and I couldn’t get into the dining room. I backed out into the hall and went around the other way. However, the dining room doorway was stuffed to the top with shredded paper. I could hear the chicken ranting about clashing paint colors and crooked paintings.

I went outside to call 911.

Darrell Crosby answered. We went to high school together. He married Melissa Echols, a girl I’d had a crush on for years. But I didn’t hold it against him. Not considering how things turned out. I mean, I knew she was an animal lover, but that girl went way too far. There should’ve been a law. Heck, there used to be a law. Bottom line, I knew Darrell would be on my side.

I’d love to help you, Ted. You know how I feel about them. But my hands are tied as long as they don’t hurt anyone. They didn’t hurt you, did they,” he asked hopefully.

Couple paper cuts. But they’re occupying my house! At least my dining room. Am I supposed to eat standing up?”

What part of ‘I can’t freaking arrest them’ don’t you get?”

You won’t do anything.”

Can’t.” He hung up.

I hate these stupid animal superheroes, but I hate Critical Chicken the most.


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